


Lucky Strike

by evenings_universe, Inexon



Category: Cars (Pixar Movies)
Genre: 1950s AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Ask for any tags to be added, F/M, Heavy use of innuendos, Humanized Cars (Pixar Movies), Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Its not an accurate period piece someone is getting a walkman, Korean/Filipino Jackson Storm, Lightning is spoiled, M/M, Making Out, McQueen has a dog, One Night Stand, Period Typical Attitudes, Period Typical Homophobia, Pining, Racing, Smoking, Storm gets angry, Tag As I Go, Thirsty at first sight, Violence, bowling, music references, nothing explicit though, period typical racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27084952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evenings_universe/pseuds/evenings_universe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inexon/pseuds/Inexon
Summary: It’s 1958, and things ain't so breezy from the public’s point of view. After years of studying Lightning McQueen on the track and newspapers, Joon Yun, aka Jackson Storm, cross paths with the legend himself for the first time.Having to choose between what they love as a sport and what’s financially the smartest move is the struggle everyone is facing, but especially for Storm. There’s only so much you can do as the controversial IGNTR rep. trying to make it big in the headlines, without becoming a scandal in the process; especially when you’re... let's just say associating with a little more than the McQueen family and IGNTR alone.
Relationships: Cal Weathers/Jackson Storm(past), Lightning McQueen/Jackson Storm, Lightning McQueen/Sally Carrera(past)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. The Summer of 1958

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dropping the first 5 chapters here! Enjoy!

It’s the year 1958, a great year if you are a fan of years with the numbers one, nine, five, or eight in them. Rock n Roll music is cool, seatbelts were not mandatory, and nor was a moral compass.

And Jackson storm is stuck between a rock and a ~~hard place~~ very idiot Lightning McQueen. It’s going to be a fun time.

\----

Well then. Here goes nothing.

There’s a million ways this could be played out. But this is the path Joon Yun, aka the great Jackson Storm, took in order to keep what was left of his sanity.

The year was somewhere around 1958 on the last check, peak of what was left of the smooth cat era and a great standard of livin’. A great year if you are a fan of years with the numbers one, nine, five, or eight in them. James Dean was gone for a good three years now, many rookies stopped racing, others didn’t. Mainly for the legacy of James and to keep him living on forever. For Joon, it wasn’t for the tribune to the late James Dean, nor the rush when you make a smooth, dusty turn in the unpaved track. No. It was for his dream to prove to others and himself that he was more than his heritage, race, sexual orientation, and what pressures the world has put upon him.

He was going to prove he was untouchable - that’s what he was here for.

To make his family proud to have a son who was successful and was able to give more than just food on the table. A hard plan to accomplish, he’s up for the challenge.

While checking his engine, he heard some of the guys around him start to chit chat. Storm adjusted the smoke in his mouth with his teeth and twiddled with his Lightning bolt shaped earring, old habits that have yet to die. They were loudly babbling about women, cars, sex, whatever they could think of. Usually it means the race was about to start. Regardless, There was still barely anyone on the starting line, let alone people to begin with. Joon peered over his shoulder and out the window only to see a slicked back blonde white guy. Leaning against this cherry red car, helmet tucked in his arms.He’s seen his type before - big shots who think that they’re the most incredible things in the known world. Their egos were bigger than their brains, but that was giving their brains too much credit.

Joon watched as one of the guys ran up to the blonde and they exchanged a handshake. “IT'S VERY NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU MR LIGHTNING MCQUEEN SIR!”The guy exclaimed. He was shaking a little like a small dog on hearing the word ‘walk’ out of context.

Lightning chuckled, only slightly afraid, “You don’t have to blab so loudly!”

Joon’s heart raced, exhaling the smoke. He’s heard and studied this guys' moves for months now. Let alone years. Fuck. He didn’t move from his car though clearly it caught Lightning’s eye. The biggest, brightest blue on the track and god if he didn’t already know it. Joon took one last inhale of his smoke before spitting it out onto the ground and putting it out with a ‘crunch’.

Lightning elbowed one of his colleagues, eye glued to the new racer. He snickered, “Who’s the blueberry?”He asked. Gesturing towards the racer.

“Oh, them? I dunno man, he seemed kinda... sketchy….” One of the lackeys trailed off watching the new racer weave his way around more of the racers there.

“Yeah, they just came on the scene one day. I don’t even know if they’re properly in the race,” another looked on in confusion, scratching their scraggly, still-growing beard. He could pretend it was grown all he wanted to though.

The lackeys continued to blabber on about the other racer and dumbly theorizing on their origins. A few pointed out how the racer clearly wasnt from here, jokes of aliens and government schemes filled the air.

Lightning drowned out their speech as the newcomer got into his car. The race was soon to start. Lightning saluted his lackey’s, swinging open his car door and quickly putting on his helmet. He shook the jitters out of him, gripping the steering wheel and inhaling deeply.

Lighting pulled out of his parking, almost hitting a fellow before driving off to the starting line.

There was a final call. No alarm, not an announcer over a PA, just one of the pit members, for the 45 car, Joon thinks - whatever the pink one is, cupping his hands over his mouth and giving a last call. He sounded like it wasn’t his first time of the day saying it. A few of the racer’s finished their beers, another finished his coffee.

Joon caught a death grip on his clutch while his other hand was tapping on the wheel as if it was ready to pounce. He kept looking around - especially at Lightning. Joon noticed the familiar hesitance in his face, something wasn’t right.

Joon let out a breath and listened to the engines fire up around him. It was the most peaceful sound that he had heard all afternoon.

A tall, big curled haired lady with a red strapless top that was only done up as high as it needed to be and leather tight pants, walked in front of the row of cars. “Okay boys! You know the rules of the track!,” she yelled out, it was hard to tell how much of her Southen-Bell accent was real. The woman winked at one of the cars. She took her scarf out of her pocket, and held it up in the air.

Joon took in a breath. Engines roared. The smell of gasoline fills his lungs. Just how he likes it.

“THREE!” She called out with a smile in her voice. She had power over the entire racetrack and every man on it.

“Three,” Joon echoed under his breath.

“TWO!”

“Two.” His grip becomes less tense, his expression changed to that of a true neutral. No one needs to see how he felt, and nobody would.

“One,” Came a soft voice. Her scarf flew in the air as her body bent over. It was a bend with a soft, yet rather effective, bounce to it.

“One.” He got into gear and was one of the few who were first to zoom past the gal.

This is the generic track that Joon knows all too well. You race on one and you’ve raced on more or less all of them.

Not long from the start was a sharp turn. He watched the gaps in between the cars as he swerved past another racer. Quickly as he started he switched gears, pulling harshly into the turn. He can’t stop the smirk creeping up upon his face. He furrowed his brows as he heard the earth crumple into the cars behind him.

A cloud of dirt and dust flowing behind him. Usually most people who are right behind him can’t escape his dust cloud, but he sees Lightning suffice. An actual challenge…

He moves gears again and accelerates. Perfect timing, he found the gap he was looking for. He zooms right in between and past the others. Maintaining speed he gets ready for the next turn. He looks in his rear view mirror to see the familiar cherry red. How the hell is he still that close! He exhaled. Remember you can only focus on how you get in first. He makes the wide turn without any problems.

He keeps his eyes forward, looking for the gap again. The red in his vision keeps creeping in. “Son of a bitch.”, Joon blurts out. He speeds up. They stay neck and neck for what feels like a good two thirds of the race. Joon doesn’t seem to get any closer to whoever is in first.

He took one glance over at his opponent. Lightning seems to be biting his bottom lip but not worried. Joon smiles, “he’s pushing his car..” He looks in front. The last turn. Instead of slowing down, Joon guns it into the turn. The red in his vision has moved into the rear view mirror. Success. Joon tried to gun his car again but the finish was literally just a few feet in front of him. He takes the title of second. Joon sighs, watching the 1st place winner, Cal excitedly jump out of his car.

He keeps driving till he’s at a more controllable speed to go park by his little corner of the place. Careful not to hit his tool cart, taking off his helmet and setting it down on it.

Joon steps out and leans into his car. Giving her a soft pat on the roof, “We did good baby… we'll do better next time…”

He looked over at the rest of the racers who were just finishing up then at those who’s already passed. Cal in 1st, some yellow car in 3rd, and of course Mr. Lighting McQueen himself in a humble 4th. “Blondie wasn’t far behind us.” Joon snickered. Watching the cherry red car almost hit a guy as it parked.

He watched Lightning get out of his car, face contorted in frustration. Ready to throw what seemed to be a shiny new helmet to the ground. Joon looked away right before they could make eye contact-and before he threw a tantrum. People still walked over to the guy, even though none of them won anything. Only first place got a decent amount of money. Maybe Joon will get ten bucks for getting second place, but that ain’t a lot. Especially in the business he’s in. Ray would’ve already scheduled another training session with Nat by now considering his 2nd place win.

It’s a bust here anyways. Storm shut his car door. Time to check what the track did to my baby today.

Joon changed his focus from the blonde to his car. He popped open the hood, checking if any parts are in rough shape. This was a smaller race, his crew wouldn’t come to this as it was really only for him. What’d they’d get out of it anyway? The money from the win wouldn’t be enough to entice them. He pulled out a half greased up hand cloth from his back pocket and pulled his cart a bit closer to his car. He lit a smoke and inhaled, mentally preparing himself for any harsh scratches to his baby.

Lightning grumbled about his loss to his lakeys as they chuckled and consoled him. 4th place behind Ramirez, though being essentially siblings with em’ it didn’t bother him as much as it would’ve if it was anyone else. He set his helmet on the hood of his dear old car. Whipping away the dirt, dust and rocks to clear the way for it.

He slicked back his hair, sighing in frustration. When he spotted that black and bright blue car from earlier. 2nd place behind Weathers. The racer was completely engulfed, examining every part of their engine.

Might as well see what the new racer’s up to. He shrugged to himself, having nothing better to do. He completely ignored the rest of the group yapping.

Lightning curiously strolled over from the group he was chatting up. Transfixed on the flashy blue of the car and...

This new racer…

God damn, that body. Lightning bit his lip as he investigated the newcomer, who threw their oil covered cloth over their shoulder. Lightning could see the muscles on them relax as they shut the hood. Turning check to out the rest of their car.

He rested himself on the side of what he assumed to be the racers tool cart and began to check them out from head to toe.

Ravenette hair, styled in a mess of a loose pompadour. Sexy if you asked Lightning, ‘a lot’ if you asked anybody else. Leather jacket with a gray turtleneck peeking out from underneath the racers uniform. They wore all black, blue racing lines littered the fabric. Lighnting instinctively whistles at the sight. Forgetting he was in earshot.

Then the racer turned to look up at him.

Fuck.

Lightning wasn’t expecting, well that. Piercing gray eyes, eyebrows raised in silent disgust and question. Lips slightly parted, a half-charred cigar hung out from between. He noticed the earring in his right ear and the slightest bit of dimple...

He almost felt bad that he’d either get to mess up the racers face or his almost as hot car.

Joon rolled his eyes, doing his best to turn his eyes away from Lightning’s exposed chest. Leather jacket hugging the racer in all the right ways. He didn’t wanna be hypocritical now. Not like that was much of a bad thing.

“Whaddya want, Lightning.” Joon growled, standing up to his full height. Joon was remarkably taller than the other racer. Maybe by a few inches.

The height difference didn’t distract much from Lightning's looming presence.

McQueen took himself off Joon’s cart to meet his gaze. Cart rattling a little from the loss of weight. Blue eyes locked with grey as Lighting gave this new racer his token cocky smile. Toothy, mocking and oh so punchable.

“I want a name for the meal I’ll be taking to go tonight.” McQueen walked forward, coming as close to Joon's face as he could. The smell of smoke and sweat hung in the air. Hands tucked in the pockets of his brown leather jacket.

"The only meal you'll be eating is the dust you'll be choking on", Joon snapped back, lips turning up into a smirk. “Just like on the track.” he added. Whipping around to go back to checking his baby as the cloth whipped Lighting in the face. He spat out his smoke to the groun and crushed it.

Lightning sputtered, taken back from the newcomers snappiness. Ultimately he wasn’t mad in fact he found it kind of...

Hot.

As the other racer turned away to get back to work, McQueen quickly grabbed his leather clad shoulder.

“Hey, wait a second,” Joon turned to look questioningly at Lightning, “Do you wanna, er- Wanna head to the V8 cafe down by the pawn shop with us? It’s on the house~” Lightning sang.

Joon laughed, crossing his arms, “ And why should I?”  
he asked.

“Well, you’ll get to know some of the lackeys round ere’. You get a free meal. You get to be around me-“  
McQueen trailed off counting his fingers.

“I haven’t gotten to know any of your ‘lackeys’ since I’ve started and I sure as hell ain’t starting now.” Those guys were annoying anyways. Except Cal. He quite liked him.

Lightning scoffed, dramatically feigning offense with a relaxed hand on his chest. “Not even for little ol’ me?” he pouted.

“I didn't say you specifically, I meant your little posse,” there was a small splitting in how he was speaking, almost as if he hadn’t expected himself to get this far. “I’m not exactly one for crowds.. or noisy people.” Joon added. “I like to get on the track and out of it without treating it like some neighborhood potluck.” The only noise he liked was the sound of cheering not leering men.

Lightning perked up and outstretched his hand to shake, “So; I’ll meet ya round 8?”

Joon gave him a quick leer up and down and shook his hand firmly. “Fine by me.” Lighting’s hands were way warmer than Joon was expecting them to be.

Lightning cupped Joon’s hands into his, “Do I get to know your name or are we saving that for later?”He said with a wink. It sounded like that was his go-to line, for business or for otherwise.

Joon rolled his eyes at the display, though he wasn’t making any effort to pull his hand away.

“Storm; Jackson Storm.” Joon confidently stated. His stage name, despite being a requirement that he wished that he didn’t have to conform to, was a name that he cherished. Besides, it ‘sounded cool’. And white enough that any old race announcer wouldn’t fuck it up on his first try.

McQueen brought Joon’s hand up to a light kiss on his knuckles. The feeling almost burnt through his leather gloves.

“It’s a date then.” Lighnting smirked. You could see his grin only grow at that.


	2. Neon Lights and Questionable Nights

Lightning turned his obnoxiously red radio up louder in his room. Blasting his favorite rock band as loud as it would let him. Danny and The Juniors new hit just came out. Bouncing to the beat as he brushed his gel covered hair back. Lighting glanced up at his pastel yellow clock, 7:25pm. That left him with 20 more minutes to get ready for his ‘date’ with Jackson.

Lightning carded his hand through his hair, meticulously testing it for the right consistency. Not too gelled up for it to be obnoxious, unlike everything else about him. While not too flowing to be soft to the touch. It had to look the part, and If not, at least stay in place long enough to let him believe that it was. 

Lightning gave his reflection on his larger than life vanity mirror the utmost attention. It was cluttered with pictures of him, his lil’ dog Bourbon and more of him. Too invested in his self image he hadn’t noticed that one of the family maids had come to pay him a visit, standing just in the doorway, waiting for his attention to be taken away from himself. 

Like usual Lightning’s room was the ultimate mess, clothes strung everywhere. Some clothes managed to hang out his window bed, others were strung in such a way that you could forget that he owned a hatstand. There was a mirror everywhere you looked and the ever so ‘harmonious’ color palette of bright pastel yellows to blood red. His window was wide open, probably from last night's hookup if the lacey bra hanging out the 3rd story window of the McQueen manor was anything to go by. Barely noticeable among the palm trees attempting to enter his home this summer.

The walls were lined with trophies from soccer games and his past races. Big, small, needlessly complicated designs and very specific placement. If he had a nickel for every time he’s snapped at a new maid or cleaning lady over the trophy placement, he’d have...barely an 8th of his weekly allowance. He could’ve made that in a day. But it was still a lot, for the common folk.

In short the man was a maids worst nightmare. 

Lightning continued to bop to the beat, getting so into it he practically had his own little concert in his room. He hadn’t noticed his maid enter the room. McQueen continued to horribly sing to his comb as Emmarie or as Lightning liked to call her since childhood, Emie, sighed in resigned frustration as she began to pick up Lightnings clothes. Only holding them by the tip of the collar in mild disgust. 

“Where the jockey is the smoothest! And the music is the coolest at the hop. All the cats and chicks can get their kicks at the hop. Let's-Oh, fuck”, Lightning fumbled with his hairbrush almost dropping it. He smiled nervously, “Hi, Emie..” he shyly waved at her, awkwardly holding his comb by the bristles. Emie straightened her light pink dress.

Emie chuckeld, “s’fine, Monty,” waving her gloved hand dismissively as she moved to pick the clothes off Lightning’s bed. Emie was Lightning’s favorite out of the mansion staff, her being the only person besides his parents to call him Monty in this household. She struggled to haul the already halfway full basket of clothes, her lithe frame was almost hidden behind the basket.

Lightning watched as she practically dropped the basket on the foot of his bed. He winced at the loud thud against the floor, she was getting older. Nearing her early 50s and she’s been McQueen’s maid for his entire life. The best maid he’s had, he’d never admit to knowing he took everything she did for him for granted. 

Lightning watched nervously. Setting the comb aside and turning off his radio. He began to sweat a little as the more clothes Emie cleared off his bed the more obvious what he was up too last night. His shoulders tensed, Emie's face went from content to mildly annoyed as she threw a pair of boxers that clearly weren’t Lightnings into the bin. 

Ah fuck. 

Emie pursed her lips, “Monty,” she started, disappointment obvious in her tone and she turned her head toward him. Lightning did his best to avoid her gaze.

“Monty, dear,-“

“I know.” Lightning sighed as he flopped himself back onto the velvet sheets of his king sized bed. Lightning took a deep breath. He had to mentally prepare himself for the lecture.

Emie sighed and plopped herself beside him. The bed bounced a little as she did it. “This is the third time this week, dear. I thought you said you wanted to ‘move on, find a family and race off into the sunset”, she looked down at Lighting, tucking a stray piece of strawberry blonde hair back behind his ear. Lightning whined annoyed at the show of care, “Is that what you really want though? A family? Kids?”

Lightning starred up at the ceiling, his blue eyes struggling to focus. The blades of the fan were becoming more of a blur than Lighting felt. He’s been contemplating all of this for a few months now, unsure of what else to do. The reporters were getting bothersome. To the point where Emi had started logging all the phone calls from thirsty gossipers and the like. Even if it had been years since he and Sal broke up, to this day he’d gotten call after call about the ‘Sal-tuation”, as the papers liked to call it.He’d regularly pay off Flo to throw out the newspapers covering everything up, it was the only idea of his Emie and Flo could really get behind. He didn’t like having to have Emie handle the people on the phone but it’s not like it isn’t what he’s paying her extra for doing.

Frankly, he quite liked the no-strings-attached set up he had going for him. He liked having everything he could ever ask for, and the idea of just, settling down out of nowhere like that didn’t sound right. At least not yet. 

Women, men, everyone. Everyone wanted a piece of him and they’d do just about anything for it. Even if you had all the money in the world you couldn’t buy him unless you passed _his_ standards. Lightning smiled to himself thinking about all the times people have tried winning him over with neons and luminescent blues. Only there for the recognition, eh? He sighed, thinly veiling a tinge of sadness.

They married for the money and fame anyway. He wasn’t much different though. That’s what you get for being the son of a cheating southerner and a Texas bombshell.

Instead the track was his escape. Ever since Hud retired when he was a kid he’s had his mind set on being a racer, he had no time, his friends and racing were the only things he took time for. Besides his appearance.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.” Lightning sighed. “Just a matter of t-“

“Monty!!” Mrs. McQueen slammed the door open, her big bleach blonde hair flopping everywhere. It looked like a mangled beehive. Much unlike McQueen’s strawberry blonde from his dad. His father laid low letting his wife be the attention whore and media magnet of the family. A little contradictory considering the affairs his dad was known for, ”It’s 7:34, when are ya gonna get ready for your date?!” Thick southern accent ringing in his ears even after she had left. 

Lightning rolled out of bed, almost knocking Emie over in the process. 

“Emie,” Lightning grabbed his car keys. “Go start ol’ Lightning for me okay! Oh, and take lil’ old Bourbon out for a walk!” Lightning threw his keys over, Emie catching it midair. An old practice of the two.

“And the clothes basket, Monty?” Emie asked heading towards the door. 

“I’ll just get some other maid to clean it up.” Lightning waved her off as he rushed to get ready for his and Storm’s ‘date.’ If you could even call it that.

—————————

Joon was already prepared for his ‘date’ with Mr. Lighting McQueen. The collar of his baby blue polo shirt was starting to choke him a little, but there wasn’t much else in his collection that would have been better - and he wasn’t going to be the type of person who turned up to a casual dinner with a fellow racer in dressware. He adjusted his black leather jacket and checked his pompadour in the window of his car. Careful not to get the damp washcloth on it. It wasn’t even much of a ‘proper’ pompadour, just more of a quick way to keep his fringe out of his face. Usually that hair was kept back with a hat or helmet. 

Sure, he looked ridiculous all dressed up like this in his parents backyard, whipping down his car from the training earlier. But, it was for his racing career.

Ray has started to really push Joon’s training. Spring's racing season wasn’t exactly his best. He grimaced thinking about the 8 hour training day he was put through at the end of last season. He could almost hear the cackling of his crew as he slammed into the same right turn over and over again. 

The dent on his old car that day made it look like a bull decided the red paint job he got from Thomasville looked better than anything in the ring. 

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother calling him from the kitchen. “Joon!”

“I’m coming, ma!” Storm wiped off one more splotch of dirt from his car before tossing the rag into the bucket next to him. He went inside of the house sighing. “What is it, mom?”, he asked, looking around the baby blue kitchen before spotting his mom practically hidden behind the counter. Excitedly beckoning for him to come over. 

Joon’s Dad wasn’t going to be home for a while, it always seemed to make him feel a little on edge knowing he’d have to leave his mom alone in the house. Over the short couple years of racing(and other more morally skewed jobs), Joon had gathered up enough money to move his family to a better part of the town. Even if he knew she was safe it didn’t help that he’d been having to watch over his own mother like a hawk since he was 10.

Everyday he was thankful that she even woke him up in the morning. 

“Just wanted to make sure my little boy is looking good for his date!,” she started to straighten his collar, making him lean over. Aggressively flapping the collar down and smoothing out his shirt.

“You don’t have to do this. You’ve already done enough..”Joon huffed a little at the gesture as he lifted his arms and head up, but appreciated it nonetheless. He just wanted to get out of there. 

“Oh, hush.” His mother flustered, “You better have a good impression on this young lady! Maybe she’ll be good enough to bring home this time.” Joon could see the small sad smile grace her features. 

He knew it all too well. It was almost a shame to see. 

“Is she American?,” she asked, looking him over as if to find more to fix up, “What does her family do?”

Joon sighed. “ Nanay, this isn’t important.”

His mother didn’t think so. She gave him a soft look that told him that she wasn’t going to go away until he complied. 

He grit his teeth. “Yes. Blonde. Met on the racetrack. Attractive but not a scholar. Will find out more later.”

“ See? That wasn’t too hard.”

“ _Nay_ ,” Joon stressed, “This stuff isn’t really important.”

“ Well, It doesn’t hurt to know what my baby ends up hanging around. I never get to know anybody you hang out or go out with is like. And I would like to know what my future daughter-in-law may be.”

Joon couldn’t decide if he should cringe or smile, so he just rolled his eyes with a soft ‘tisk.’ “You never know who’s the one until you meet them. I’ve been just unlucky.”

“No, no no. My anak isn’t unlucky. I knew you were always meant for great things and so far, you’ve made me proud.” she smiled sweetly at him, her crows foot had gotten even more prominent since last year. It scared him sometimes.

_If you only knew… knew everything…_

It took everything in him to smile back and make it seem genuine. He sat up, straightening his leather jacket again. “ What do you think? ” 

“ Ang pogi! Very handsome as always.” She gasped as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “ Joon, you’re going to be late! Come on go make a good impression! Be there on time so she knows you’re into her! ” she began to almost shove him out the door, it only made Joon laugh. 

“Ma! I’ll be fine! Don’t worry so much! ” he quickly kissed her cheek as he rushed out the door, clutching his keys in his pocket. He turned to look at her one last time. He knew it wasn’t going to be last, but part of him won’t let the idea go. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and clutched at his earring, once a pin from the 1st grade his mother happened to give him for doing well on a test. He couldn’t wear it around her though. He sighed as he got into his car, “Make sure pa comes home on time! I’d hate for you two to have a late dinner!”

She could only nod in response with a soft shake of her head. Joon waved while he zoomed away.

——————————

The building was fairly new and looked like this. The diner was sitting on the corner of the street and extended into the building behind it; but the front bar had its own personality. It also had its own loiters, mostly teenagers smoking and others socializing without having to buy anything from the restaurant itself. It had the vibe of somewhere that would have made for a fun photo to put in a calendar or time capsule, but nobody had taken it. 

The diner was only partially busy when Lightning arrived. Dinner was always the busiest time, but it was still pretty early in the night. Still light enough to do stuff, ‘late twilight’, if you wanted to call it such. Lighting was able to find a park on the lot with almost suspicious ease. 

Lightning looked around at the familiar restaurant, checkerboard tiles with sea foam green walls. The pink diner chairs and neon lights were almost a brand at this point. Some of the windows towards the front were littered with newspaper clippings and restaurant awards from over the years, you could see the owner, a woman with big hair named Flo, aging with her own business. She heard the door ‘clink’ with Lighting’s entrance, and flashed him a soft, ‘I’m too busy to greet in person so I’ll talk to you in a moment, but welcome!’ smile before taking another person’s order. 

McQueen gave a shy wave before spotting the newspaper stand beside the entrance. He eyed the title full of McQueen family this, and McQueen family that. Despite only a glance he could see all the ridiculous-but not far from the truth- stories about his personal life. Each hookup, each partner, each and everyone one of them were covered by smarmy reporters and gossip gurus. Luckily these ones were old news-all thanks to Emie for covering them up. A front page article mentioned someone named, January? Old racer from a few years ago. Never heard of him after their retirement. Despite that he still felt exposed with the papers lying out in the open. He’d have to pay Flo a favor before throwing them out.

This was the first time in his life that Lighting had arrived early for a date. Hopefully Storm liked punctual folk. He took a regular back corner booth with the window. He was more or less followed by one of the waitresses there. He gave her his signature wink as he smiled at her obvious attempts to hide her distaste for him.

The waitress dropped her customer servas smile once she remembered who he was. She sighed with slight annoyance, “So are you actually going to finish your meal this time or try and hook up with the rest of the staff like you do every other night?” She folded her arms, messy brown and curly ponytail slipping off her uniform.

Lighting looked up at her up and down. That still sounded like a good backup plan, “Yknow, I don’t really care for you knowing my patterns so well, Sal. Whaddya doin’ stalking me?” He only meant it half heartedly as he started to chuckle a bit. He was the only one laughing. 

The woman had soft brown hair in the ponytail and a baby blue shirt under her apron. She wasn’t as white as Lighting, but he had never asked where she was from. All that Lighting really knew about her was that she had been studying Law, and when Lighting found that out he had described it as ‘adorable.’ She had ‘forgotten’ to put the marshmallows in his milkshake. 

She was warming up to him for sure. 

‘Sal’ didn’t seem as amused, but took the joke anyway; if anyone would call it that. She rolled her eyes and laid two menus out on the cold steel table.

“Who’s the lucky guy this time? Someone off the side of the road?” She remarked, adjusting a painting of the diner a little before leaning against the seat Lightning was on.

“Not this time, Sals.” Lighting adjusted the frame so it was deliberately off-center. “But, if you don’t mind I would _love_ a strawberry shake right about now. Maybe whip one up for my date too, while you’re at it, he paused, “And - uh charge it to my tab.”

Sally scribbled the two things down with a loose wrist, “Don’t you know you’re almost at a hundred bucks with Flo? You better pay up soon.” Sally punctuated with a tap of her pen on her notepad. One eyebrow raised at the blonde. 

“Yeah yeah. She loves me! She’ll let me off the hook this one last time.” He waved off, ever so sure of himself.

“...And you said that last time.”

“What can I say, I’m one with the ladies,” He shoots two finger guns at her. Somehow, Lighting figured out how to roll the ‘r’ in ‘ladies,’ as he said it. 

Sally just rolled her eyes and left to get the shakes ready, the tapping of her heels disappearing into the kitchen.

Lightning propped his arms on the table and propped himself up on his arms, staring off into the distance outside the window. The dark blue sky creeped in as the neons of the rest of the town came to life. His mind wandered around without a purpose until he went onto the subject of Storm. 

He’d never notice that racer on the track before, which was rather surprising considering how the man decorated and dressed himself. 

Though, I guess Lighting didn’t have much of the right to judge with his own slicked back hair and flame covered brown jacket. Yes, they were hand-painted, thank you for asking. 

Lighting thought back to earlier that day and smiled. Storm had played along nicely with him, at least from what he could tell. Hard to get maybe? No, it’s just...passive aggressive flirting, if it could be called anything. If it _was_ flirting that was a question for another time. Lighting mulled over for a bit, pour becoming more obvious by the second. He’s laid people just like Storm before, sure, what makes this any different? 

Maybe it’s because he was a guy. It didn’t matter how hard Lighting tried, he just could never figure them out. 

A deep blue car pulled up in the parking lot right in front of Lighting’s line of sight. He straightened out his clothes and tried his best to look as laid back as possible and Storm entered the cafe. The ring of the door at the front seemed quieter this time. 

Lightning waved Joon down with a whisper-yell. He smiled warmly as Storm rolled his eyes playfully. Lightning eyed him up, checking out the racers body again. Now that they weren’t on the track and out of protective gear, he could truly get a look at Storms frame.

Despite the leather jacket and in his opinion, a bit of an overkill of a polo shirt he could see how fit the guy was. Maybe the polo shirt wasn helping a little as it seemed a bit small on the guy. A bit of skin peaked out as Lighting but his lip ‘respectively’.

Storm sat down across from him, leaning against the table. The slight jingle of his earring somehow timed perfectly with another customer walking in. What he’d do to be the seat Storm sat on. Lightning wondered if he was doing that on purpose.

“So, ‘Jackson Storm’..” Lightning inhaled through his teeth, “Where the _fuck_ did you learn to race like that?”

Storm looked at him nonchalantly, “I actually was just born a god of the track. My mother gave birth to me in a car and I was the one who drifted all the way to the maternity ward so they could look her over.” 

Lighting blinked. 

“Years of practice, dumbass. Do you think you get good at racing overnight?” Storm picked up the menu, eyeing Lightning over the top. Storm fought back a smile.

Before Lightning could open his mouth for an equally witty reply, Sally slid two tall glasses across the metal table. “Two strawberry shakes,” she announced. 

Storm looked at Lighting, down at the milkshakes, and then back up and lighting, all without lowering the menu. “What are you? Twelve?” 

Sally was trying to keep her composure without laughing her ass off, “Oh, Lightning, he’s a keeper for sure.”

Lighting was outnumbered. “Hey! _Sally!_ ”

Storm smirked as he eyed Lighting again, mouth open and with his ears turning a shade of red. It was the closest thing that Lighting had seen so far to a genuine smile from the man. 

“I got you a milkshake because it’s the gentleman thing to do,” Lighting said in full defense. “It’s nice and light.”

“I hate milkshakes, especially strawberry ones,” Storm said as he put the menu down. “I would like a thing of fries. On _his_ tab.”

“And fries are perfect for a milkshake!” Sally offered with a smile. 

“I… don't really want any chips, thank you,” Lighting said under his breath. “Never been a fan of them.” 

Sally took the menus while having a laughing attack. “Two peas in a pod! Anything else that you'd like, Lighting?” She asked. 

“The usual..,” Lighting grumbled, handing her his menu. Sally left, heels clacking quickly into the kitchen.

Storm looked back at him. “You don’t like fries?” 

Lighting avoided the question with half a pout and a moched ‘two peas in a pod’ under his breath. “So...what brought you into racing?”

Storm shrugged, “The rush. The feeling you get when you get up to 100mph. The air and the dirt flying past ya. You feel, yaknow, invincible.” He was looking off and then straight back at Lightning. “You can’t get that anywhere else, not really.” 

Lighting felt shivers go down his spine. Those steel grey eyes can pierce anyone’s soul in half. He felt the urge to either mess up that ridiculous hair of his or roughly card his hands through it. _God damn his voice. The way he described the ride couldn’t be better sa-_

There was a snap of somebody’s fingers right in front of Lighting’s face. 

“Hello? McQueen?,” Storm said, leaning forward on the table to try and reach him; both metaphorically and physically, “Must be those milkshake fumes.”

McQueen snapped back to reality, “Huh? What?”

“You’re staring, McQueen. What the hell do you see in me? This is a lot of work to go just to chat. We could have just gone for a beer after the race, but no.”

_My dick._

“Your eyes.” Lighting replied quickly as if he was reading from a teleprompter. 

Storm rolled the eyes that Lighting seemed to be ‘so obsessed’ with, “Yeah, you must say that to everyone you meet. Then brag about your big muscles and clean abs.” He said ‘big’ and ‘clean’ as if he was saying it to a child.

Lighting smirked, “Was that an actual compliment? From you?”

Storm blushed ever so slightly, “As if! Look now you have me-“

The voice was frantic, and somehow talked like a radio announcer from 30 years prior. “We interrupt this program for some breaking news! The bank downtown has been robbed! Estimated $5000 missing! Witnesses say that it was a group of bandits. One witness said they looked Asian and had leather outfits and mechanic jumpers on! Be on the lookout! There’s a reward of $100 to whoever finds them! Now back to your regularly scheduled program!” Then the upbeat rock’n’roll dance music continued like the news was nothing.

McQueen scowled at the radio, it was hard to tell what expression he had on his face. “Why the hell did they have to make their appearance the prominent thing? Why can’t it be that they robbed the bank, and that’s it! I don’t understand..”

“You completely understand..,” Storm's voice was low, almost a whisper. McQueen heard him though. Storm's head was down and he was fiddling with the napkin. Clearly bothered by the situation and had full right to be.

Lightning tried to be comforting, “I mean at least it wasn’t your money stolen and I bet you don’t know the-“

“Look. Drop of the subject,” Storm interjected. “Do you want to get out of here? Let’s get out of here,” He said as he slid out of the booth. Storm rolled his shoulders to quickly pull his jacket off and into his arms. They were hairless. 

Lightinng watched him. “...but our food…” He said with a bit of a whimper. 

Storm was already walking away.

Lightning did his best to skull his milkshake through the straw and scrambled out of the booth. He ended up seconds away from crashing into Sally in the process. 

Sally stared down at him in confusion. She had a tray of used plates from another table in hand, “Where are you going? You ordered food-“

“I’ll pick it up later tonight. I gotta go!” Lightning ran out of the diner to keep up with Storm. 

Storm shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and pushed himself out of the door with his elbow. He was silently glaring at the sidewalk of the strip. 

Lightning was out of breath, “I know. That place was getting crowded anyway.”

“Like I said, you don’t know anything…” 

_This is the harshest cold shoulder I’ve ever gotten…_

“Hey! At least the neon lights are nice! Definitely makes the streets glow. Kinda romantic, if you ask me.” Lighting had a big goofy smile that took up the entire lower half of his face. 

Storm looked up a little to notice the lights. It actually made him smile.

_A point for Lighting._

They stopped to turn to the loud laughter coming from one of the buildings. Out of all things, it was a bowling alley, specifically ‘Doc’s Bowling Alley.’ It looked like an old building, like it could have once been a theater before it got gutted and turned into an alley. The old spaces for posters where advertising combo deals. 

Lighting patted Storm on the side of the arm and brought his attention to the store. “Hey, “Do you wanna go in..?”

“Yeha..,” Storm walked up to the doors and pushed them open. The two walked in and look over at the lanes. They were all open, but only one was surrounded by clearly an old group of friends all about the same age as Lighting and Storm where. The laughter plagued the empty hall once again as one of them got a spare. The two men continued to watch the group have fun, then a booming voice cut in. 

It wasn’t a friendly voice. It was the voice of a man who was just counting down the seconds until he was able to yell at people to leave. Must have had a party during the day, or something. “Are you two punks gonna watch or actually play a game?”

They turned around to see an older guy in a dark blue button up with a black blazer. His gaze was harsh, even more intimidating with the large eyebrows and mustache. He looked like your least favorite grandpa, standing behind the counter with his clipboard and mug of what was absolutely not alcoholic. 

“You either pay $10 for a game or get out,” his stern tone seemed to finally seep in, at least into Lightning. Storm was already clenching his fists.

Lighting walked up to the old man, “I’ll pay for one game and two pairs of bowling shoes. Can I add a thing of wedges, too?”

The man glared deeper, “I don’t know who you think you are, pretty boy, but you don’t order me around like your mammy. I’ll get you a pair of shoes but get your fries somewhere else.”

Storm slammed two five dollar bills onto the counter, “Here. I’m gonna go pick out a lane.”


	3. Lightning doesn’t miss

_Red and blue, classic._

Storm handed Lightning’s ball to him, almost tossing it in his hand. He turned to the front desk and gave a shy wave to Doc, who in return mumbled a quiet, “Punks”, under his breath before counting off the cash and stuffing it in the register. 

“Well, that’s Doc for ya.” Storm rolled his eyes. He threw his foot onto the bench and began to tie his bowling shoes. “By the way, I got you one of the lighter balls. You don’t seem like one who does much else than racing,” Storm informed.

“I do too do more than just race!” _Yeah I fuck. “_ I go bowling every day,” Lightning pouted, digging himself a hole. “I bet I could get a 200 game!”

“You really wanna bet that?,” Storm finished tying off the bowling shoes. He sat up, whipping his hair back in the process, careful not to mess with his earring.

“Is it hot in here or is it just me…,” Lightning mumbled, not realizing he said that out loud.

This just made Storm scoff, “Get your dick out of your head and let’s play ball.” He got up and wrote their names on the point sheet. After, he grabbed the blue ball and went out to face the lane. Starting a few feet back, he was so calm and collected. He positioned himself to aim, ready to walk up, and fire the ball away. Boom! Strike. Storm went over to the ball and returned to write in his points.

Lightning was staring in awe, might as well have his mouth gaping open.

“Well, aren’t ya gonna go or not, expert? I need the practice either way,” remarked Storm.

“Yeah! I’m goin!” Lightning smirked.

_Bowling couldn’t be THAT hard._

_—————————-_

He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

It’d been almost an hour into their bowling session, the tenth frame. Storm had about 90 while lightning had 40 if Storm was generous with the scores.

With none of the preciseness of Storm, he ran up to the end of the lane and swung the ball. In response to the clumsiness, the ball bounced a little before rolling to only end up in the gutter. Lightning could hear Storm small giggles. 

Lightning walked back with a pout, about to sit down. He could feel judgemental eyes on him. His head turned up a little to see Doc Hudson or whatever, the chap who called Lightning a punk at the desk with one eyebrow raised in mocking.

“Yknow you have one more chance,” Storm said, fiddling with the miniature pencil.

Lightning perked up, “I do?!!” He rushed over to the ball return and retrieved his ball. He went up to the lane and bowled in the same fashion as before but with more force, seeming like he chucked the ball more than letting it glide across the lane. He gets three pins. He does a little victory dance though he didn’t win, not even close.

This made Storm smile more genuinely than the half assed ones before. He was actually having a good time, must’ve reminded him of old memories. Lightning took note of the small gesture and took advantage of the situation.

“Hey, let’s give the old man our shoes and get out of here,” Lightning suggested.

Storm nodded in agreement, “You don’t want to stay? Damn, I was having fun watching you lose.” He definitely said that half heartedly.

Lightning glared ever so slightly, “Well I’m the bowling expert.” He smirked.

Storm let out a small chuckle, “Alright, let’s go, expert.” He shoved the score sheet into his back pocket and switched shoes.

————————-

If Lightning could find a way to throw the bowling ball onto the ground without breaking the floorboards he would. It was already 10:00pm, the bowling alley was almost completely empty, except for a few couples who were talking more than bowling. Of course, Storm had won.

Lightning pouted as Storm waved the score sheet mockingly in front of him. Even if Lighting was being mocked he couldn’t help but give himself a point for the cocky smile on Storm’s face.

“Good job, _champ.”_ Joon attempted to hold back a laugh,”I thought you told me you knew what you were doing?” He raised one eyebrow at Lightning, before tucking the sheet into his back pocket.

Storm noticed him watching the movement intently, swiftly diverting his eyes after he put the sheet away. Lightning had been staring him down all night. Every move that he made Lightning paid close attention, Storm didn’t quite mind the close ‘observation’ but the intent would determine whether or not he’d have one of the worst or best nights of his life.

Turns out it was beginning to seem like the latter. 

Storm let Lightning walk ahead of him to put their shoes away. After a bit of fumbling and some curses from Lightning who miraculously had trouble taking off his shoes they were ready to go.

Storm placed another bill down in front of Doc, giving a quiet thanks to him before following his fellow racer out the front door.

The warm air hit Storm in the face once he walked out, the neon lights of the town, though few and far between illuminated the sky above them. The stars were barely noticeable with maybe a few bright twinkles here and there. 

“Nice night tonight, eh Storm?” Lightning gently elbowed the man beside him, snapping Storm out of his trance. Lightning laughed at Storm's flustered expression before walking ahead. Committing that image to memory. Who knows? Maybe he’d get some more tonight.

The two walked back to the diner, instead of parking right in front of it like Storm had done. Lightning preferred the parking near the back. Flo had a harder time noticing if he managed to sleep with one of her staff back there.

Storm followed mindlessly behind him. Lightning leaned against the bright red car one arm resting on the top. Storm scoffed a little at the sight of him trying to be smooth. He followed and leaned against the back seats window.

“Gonna be honest here, I didn’t think I’d have fun tonight.” Storm blurted out, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. “This was probably the most entertaining ‘date’ I’ve ever been on.” Storm let out a small laugh.

Lightning eyed Storm from head-to-toe, as the signs and neons from the V8 cafe flickered. Joon came to recognize those eyes over the past few hours. A deep blue that failed to hide anything short of wanting behind them.

Storm straightened up to say his goodbyes dusting some imaginary dust off his jacket. McQueen inched closer to him. The two locked eyes, sea blue on steel gray. Despite having to look down a bit at the racer he still felt like he was in the presence of a bigger force. Maybe bigger everything if he let his mind go there.

“So…” Lightning started, stealing glancing at Joon’s lips. “I’ll cya on the track, St-“

“Just kiss me already, you fucking dumb-” Storm’s insult got cut short when a pair of rough lips kissed him gently.

_Fuck._

Lightning’s hand reached up cardding through Joon’s hair as the other held onto his low waist, pulling the other closer. Storm felt lightheaded, as he wrapped his arms around Lightning’s neck as he was maneuvered and pinned against the car door.

Storm shivered into the kiss as Lightning slipped his warm hands underneath his shirt. The cold of the car and the warmth of McQueen’s hands left him breathless. Lightning roughly explored every inch of his body, despite the gentleness he crumbled against the car. Storm slumped a little against the vehicle, smiling like a dumbass as he watched McQueen fumble to unlock the back door. He reached up to touch his lips, _fucking hell_ , he thought as the car clicked, unlocking. 

Although they might’ve preferred a better place to suck face, they didn’t have many other options.

Storm’s mind went blank as he watched Lightning shed his leather jacket, the muscles on his arms becoming easily accessible to him now. He appreciated the sight as he bit the inside of his mouth, holding back a noise. 

Before Storm could follow suit, Lightning was back on him. Kissing harder than before, nibbling down on Joon’s bottom lip and moving to his neck. Storm let out a grunt of pain. He canted his back into Lightning who continued where he left off exploring the others body. Reaching up to Storm’s chest with one hand and pulling Storm’s taut body against his. Storm wasn’t going down without a fight though as he winds his hands around to flush himself closer against the others chest. He claws at his back, his breathing laboured but it was nothing compared to the harsh panting coming from McQueen. He ran his hand harshly across some of the racer's scars, not realizing the harsh inhale from McQueen was in response. Storm needily sucked into the flesh of McQueen’s tanned neck eliciting a harsh groan from the other racer.

Before either of them knew it they’d managed to stumble into Lightning’s backseat. The only source of light was the V8 cafe’s neons. McQueen had committed Storm’s body to memory, lifting up Storm's shirt and running his hands along his sides. McQueen snickered at Storm’s needy whimper, pulling his shirt off completely and throwing it haphazardly to the front seat of his car. Time didn’t matter to either of them. In Storm’s case the only thing that mattered was, not letting this get to his head and getting that tight, white shirt off of McQueen’s body. Lightning had similar plans with the clothing below Storm’s waist.

Storm was sandwiched between the driver seat and a half naked Lightning McQueen. Hickeys lined both of their necks as Lightning made do to tip the scales and leave marks all over Storm’s chest and abdomen. Abandoning his original pursuits of biting Storm’s lips till they’re swollen. He drags his lips along Storm’s collar bones and down to his abs. 

Storm's hair had flopped in front of his face, his normal resting bitch face had been swiftly replaced with a -not yet- fucked out look. McQueen looked up from his constellation of bruises he left behind on Storm. Lightning took in every detail of Storm’s face and locked it away in his mind. The thought of _him_ being the only one to get to see Storm like this startled him. His possessiveness over someone he has just met overcame his senses. In the back of his head he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time.

Lightning shuffled a bit, adjusting Storm on his lap to make himself some room. Storm watched as Lightning reached between the two and started to frantically unbuckle his belt. The clacking sounded faint in his whited out mind. Then in clicked, Storm became immediately aware of what he was in for. He blinked away the blurriness. Following swiftly behind Lightning the sound of his belt clicking open before-

“Joon gising na!” Joon’s mom yelled before smacking him square in the face with a pillow.


	4. Fireball Beach Shenanigans

Joon startled awake, almost jumping off his bed and head butting his poor mother. His head was spinning from last night. It felt like his brain was pounding against his skull. His memories were a blur of heated breaths, the slight sting nipping at his collar was another reminder of them.

It was barely even light outside, his window only letting in a cool blue of dawn. Storm sighed and eyed the clock on his dark blue wall. 

It was only 5:30.

_Shit. It was today wasn’t it? No, way he’d be up this early for any other reason than to train._

Joon massaged his temple in annoyance, shook the jitters out of him and faced his mother. She had a pillow in hand ready to smack him again if he went back to bed. Joon spotted the stack of neatly folded clothes on his old nightstand. Just like when he refused to go to school back then.

“Tito Ray is waiting in the kitchen, he said you have something important to do!” She whisper-yelled, hastily throwing his pillow back onto the bed. “Bilisan mo! Your boss is gonna fire you, bilisan!”

Joon let out an “oof” as his mother smacked the pile of clothes onto his clothed chest and hurried out of the room to attend to their guest. The excessive apologies to Ray could be heard from the kitchen. Along with Ray’s polite yet slightly unnerved reassurance.

He sighed as he threw his legs over the side of his bed. After he cracked his neck he rubbed at his aches as he brushed over the bruises and bites. He took in a sharp breath through his teeth. Thoughts of last night coming to the forefront of his mind. Desperate clawing and want was seeping through his half-wake state. Joon brushed them aside as he eyed the leather jacket folded perfectly with the rest of his clothes. 

Picking it up he rubbed his thumb along the IGNTR logo. Reminding him who he raced for, besides himself. He frowned thinking of how he’d gotten himself into this in the first place. Until the quick pitter-patter of his mom hurrying back towards his room interrupted his thoughts.

_Gotta make em’ proud._

—————————-

“AGAIN!”

Joon slammed down on the gas, easing himself into the sand. Picking a line way straighter than him and zooming past the boys as they cheered him on. He could feel Ray's eyes on him as he continued down the beach in search of any shortcuts or choke points he could use.

Fireball beach. A classic around the racing scene. Every rookie racer came through here as a makeshift rite of passage. For Joon however, it’d be a 2 year comeback to the track. 

The sun was cresting over the horizon line, turning the ocean to the right of him into a marble of greens and yellows. The sand from his tires battering against his car. Hopefully the little crabbies wouldn’t mind the ruckus so early in the morning. 

He was only an hour into training, the race starts at 3. _Another 9 or so hours of getting this track hammered into my bones,_ Joon thought eyes darting quickly around the first admittedly sharp turn for any sort of shortcut. It was bound to trip some racers up, getting swerved into wasn't exactly on the agenda today. New rookies came and went off the track after over-correcting. Joon brushed against the barrier, wincing at the sound of scraping metal. He swerved a bit and entered onto the Beachfront road.

He dwelled on how he was going to handle a situation like that as he continued speeding down the twisting track of the beach front. A few bystanders and his crew cheered him on as he drove from turn to turn, doing his best to hold the inside barely scraping the barrier like before.

By 10:00am Joon had gone at least 100 times around the track, by now he’d already have a plan laid out. Spotting a few shortcuts and points of the track he'd have to gun first for. His crew was tending to the car, checking to see anything out of place. Gale oversaw the operation. Joon slumped in his seat as Ray came up to the drivers window. His gray polo blocked the ocean view. He had a pen in one hand and a yellow notepad with a few pages already filled out. With obnoxious yellow stopwatch hung around his neck.

Ray lazily tapped his pen on Joon’s window, prompting a tired Joon to roll down his window before popping his helmet off and resting against his chair.

“You’ve averaged a good 3 minutes on each lap. Normally I’d expect you to land in the 2 minute mark but I understand that the city road leaves much to be desired.” Ray flipped through his notes as he chewed on the tip his pen.

“I think I can gun for 2 minutes or so. I’ve found some shortcuts here and there. Knowing the rookies racing this year the competition might not be as rough once they hit that first turn.” Joon remarked as he nonchalantly played with the cuffs of his racing gloves. 

He made a mental note to either let everyone else go before him or go for it at the start of the race.

“You really don’t have much faith in these guys huh?” Ray scoffed. “Lucky I got the gifted one out of the bunch.” Ray smirked.

“I guess we come few and far between, huh.” Joon said zoning out.

He remembers the day he got IGNTR as his sponsor. His first big rookie race in Thomasville. He still remembers the sneers he got from the other racers. The only Korean/Filipino on the track.

And the only winner. When word got out about his win the other racers and press tried hiding it, tried accusing him of foul play. Everyone wouldn’t stop talking about it, no one shut up about the race. Newspaper after newspaper tried pinning the win onto 2nd place, Cam Spinner. Next to no-one wanted to sponsor him despite being one of the few rookies to win in their first time in Thomasville.

Ray saw him though, that day Ray caught him leaving the track at nightfall. More like accidentally finding him at an unknown underground bowling rink.

Joon remembered that night well. Some of the guys he’s known for years there congratulated him and invited him to a game. “It’s not much, but it’s better than spending your prize at a shady bowling alley,” Cal said genuinely. He was one of the sweetest guys Joon ever knew. They lost communication over the years. Admittedly they were both busy, but the small “hellos” and pats on the back after races were cherished.

Right before Joon could even swing the ball during his first turn, a man in a superficial ora came up to him. Joon thought he was in trouble, instead he sat through an hour long proposal of how he could rock the racing world. Along with the benefits of getting a new car, paying bills for his family, and getting protection from “bastards who can’t see anything but the looks of the driver”.

It was a process getting him as the IGNTR representative. Name changes, his old car being trashed(though he wasn’t exactly complaining) and the erasing of his history. He was assigned a new crew, the only notable one being Gale Beaufort, his pseudo bodyguard. He spent months unnecessarily proving himself over and over again. It was worth it in the end.

Now he was here, doing the exact same thing but objectively less gruelling. 

Joon chuckled, “I’m the only rookie that year that didn’t crash into the racer nearest to them. I swear some of those guys got a fixation to causing destruction.”

Ray let out a grunt before rolling his eyes and going over the notes with Storm once again. A small smile letting itself grace his face.

___________________

Joon didn’t have a single break, he didn’t count the brief one right before noon. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to smoke, it was good for his health at least. Instead his break was merely his crew trying to crack his spine for 10 minutes in a makeshift massage. It helped, a little. He rested himself on the extra tires underneath the beach tent.

Almost nine hours of going around the track counting more than a thousand laps, Ray finally let him get a break. Maybe it was really because the other racers started to arrive. Setting up their camps on the sidelines. He could spot Flip Dover and Barry DePedal chatting on the sidelines. Old racing buddies much like Cal, but nowadays they barely even knew each other.

Joon cracked his neck again wincing once more at the marks left on his neck. He somehow hadn’t noticed the large silhouette of Gale approaching him with his helmet. The strongest woman Joon’s come to know and his kind of bodyguard. Gale plopped the helmet onto the racers head not even bothering to buckle it. Joon huffed in response as Gale checked him over before shooing him off to his car.

Joon parked his car at his starting point, leaning against the drivers door. His helmet was tucked underneath his left arm as he scanned the area. He tried his best to keep his cool and hide the dark circles starting to develop under his eyes. He totally wasn’t on the verge of dozing off. Before his eyes could shut a familiar bright cherry red entered the track.

_McQueen._

He immediately made eye contact with the blonde who hopped out of his car. Obnoxious slicked back hair, cocky smile and his stupid, hand-painted, flame covered, worn out leather jacket. 

He was close enough for Joon to notice the bright calming blue in Lightning’s eyes. Wait, that’s just the reflection of the ocean in those eyes. The flakes of gold from the sun and the tan glow of the sand. The blue mixed in with a tint of green… no wait that was just how Lightning’s eyes were. 

Deep blue that he would gladly get lost in. If last night was anything to go by he’d gotten too lost in the moment to pause and appreciate them. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation and the lack of rest during his training but as McQueen waved “hi” to his fellow racers Joon couldn’t help but take his chances to stare. The afternoon sun bounced off his eyes.

He knew it was rude to stare, his mother always scolded him for it. He’d been wondering how those blue eyes really looked like, the paper never did them justice. A calming-

“Storm! Are you alright?” the worried voice finally broke through Joon’s brain. Causing Storm to sputter a bit.

“Huh?” Joon snapped out of it, immediately straightening his posture and fixing his jacket. He whipped his head back moving what was left of his 5:40am pompadour. His heart dropped at the confused McQueen in front of him.

_God if only the newspapers prepared him for this._

Lighting smirked, “You were staring weren’t you?”, he cocked an eyebrow up. He looked Storm up and down before stepping back. Oddly casual despite the shenanigans they were up to last night. “I mean, I can’t blame you really.” Lightning slicked back his hair-if that was even possible- before showing Storm the single most hottest yet most horrible thing of his life. 

“Ka-chow!” Lightning motherfucking McQueen exclaimed flashing the legendary, “lucky sticker” on his jacket at Storm. Momentarily blinding him, causing Storm to stumble onto his car a little.

“Are you tryna to blind me?!”

McQueen let out a laugh at the distraught racer. Laughing even harder as Storm started cursing in a language different to his own. Clearly more aware and awake now. _Hopefully it was a good enough wake up call._

Lightning reached up to check if Storm was okay only to be gently swat away by a gloved hand. Storm's usual unimpressed mocking smirk revealed itself, now straightening himself up to his impressive posture. _Now_ he’s really awake.

“You seemed tired, might as well have given you a wake up call.” Lightning elbowed Storm in the arm. “Don’t want you swerving on me,” McQueen winked,”especially with the dirt and sand up ahead. “But I know you can handle a bit of rough play, eh?” Storm rolled his eyes.

“So, You’re familiar with Fireball beach, I take it?” Storm knew he was, but blowing his cover as a longtime fanboy wasn’t ideal. 

McQueen sighed, looking out into the track again. “They change the track every year but they always pull the same tricks.” Storm leaned down a little to view the track alongside McQueen. 

“You see the end of the straightaway right there?” McQueen pointed at the farthest end of the beach, the first turn, “Every new racer coming to Fireball beach always fucks that turn up,” Lightning threw an arm over Storm's shoulder bringing the racer down to his level. Joon’s heart skipped a beat as he pleaded for his mind to shut up, “I’ve seen it all lemme tell ya, Chick last year? Man went flying.” Lightning emphasized on the memory with a little flipping hand motion.

“Anyway, that turn? Yeah, you don’t even need to do that.”

Storm sputtered a bit, “What? I- I been here since like

8:00am and I didn’t see any shortcut. The fuck are you on about?”

“Shush, the boardwalk bridge thingy-“

“The pier-“

“Shut, if you turn right before that there’s a dirt road police use to get onto the beach away from traffic. You can pass through there and skip the turn… and the chaos”, Lightning mumbled. “If you follow me I can show you, there’s barely anyone spectating there anyway. You just gotta turn right to go left.”

Storm stood beside him mouth agape at how he hadn’t been able to spot it. He didn’t notice McQueen slipping his arm off from around his shoulders. Even after a thousand laps a simple shortcut was what he missed.

“Holy, shit…”

“Cool isn’t it?”

“Yeah, cool…Hey, Mc-“

A loud whistle cut Storm short as the starting flag hung around a woman’s waist. The race was about to start.

McQueen and Storm both went into racing mode, quickly getting into position as the cars around them roared to life. The crowd around them roared in anticipation. The lady in front pulled her too low leather bra up.

“Are ya ready dreamboats?!” A few engines revved at her, Storm rolled his eyes. He wasn’t much better than them but at least he wasn’t too free with it.

“Three!” The checkered flag flew into the air.

Storm clutched the steering wheel. Cracking his neck again and ignoring the hickeys he keeps forgetting about.

“Two!” 

He glanced over to McQueen, his tongue sticking out and shoulders tensed. 

“ONE!” 

Storm took his pedal to metal easing into the sand as the cars around him did the same. Well most of them, considering a bright yellow car had dug itself into the sand. Storm snickered at the newbie as he zoomed off on the straightaway.

Lightning cut close to his left side, Storm knew what was coming next as he slowed down to come closer into the inside.

Most of the racers zoomed ahead of them; the pier was just up ahead. Storm made a silent prayer that McQueen truly knew what he was doing. Storm's heart raced as the pier passed overhead. 

Time seemed to slow as every other car pressed on into the hellish turn ahead, but not McQueen. Oh boy, certainly not McQueen.

The dirt from the cherry red car in front flew into the air as he drifted into the dirt and sand. Despite the billowing clouds of dirt, Joon could see Lightning's wide smile. The man was truly in his element.

 _The newspapers don’t do you justice._ They both thought. 

Storm felt a surge of something bordering on pride and arousal as he quickly followed suit behind the racer and onto the dirt. For once he forgot how much he hated the rocks and shells making dents on his baby. 

They both swerved into the cement road cutting off a good portion of the crowd behind them. Storm checked his mirror to see a small pile up of cars behind him. He watched in both horror and amusement as a pink car over-shot their turns and flipped into the nestle of grass and sand. The bright yellow car from earlier managed their way out of the crowd. His slight horror turned purely into amusement and surprise as the yellow car sped up to close the gap between them. 

Rookies luck I tell ya.

He smirked as McQueen and him covered ground with each turn through the beachfront. Around the 8th turn Storm gunned for the spot in front of McQueen taking a solid 3rd in the first lap. 

The placing remained similar for the majority of the race, Storm struggled trading spots with Barry DePedal and McQueen. Around the 150th lap McQueen managed to cut DePedal off taking first.

There was a major struggle in the small shortcut coming up on the 154th lap. As more of the racers managed to catch on to the shortcut the harder it became to fight for it. As the turn came Storm drifted right into Cal, Storm prayed loudly in his head as the cars scraped together. Wincing at the sound of his precious baby being torn. He’d get Cal back for this.

Cal swerved, hitting another car and throwing himself into the barrier. Getting a good monster of a dent to his dent. Storm zoomed by him out of the turn glancing at his rear view mirror and smiling as he watched Cal bump into another car only to zoom off after Storm. Effectively trading blows with the other racers. Joon took the chance to flip off Cal as he zoomed through the track.

McQueen and DePedal were almost out of the city, fighting for the inside. Lightning and him in a fight for first. The standing now was Lighting in 1st, DePedal in 2nd and Storm in third.

The two pairs fought for the rest of the race. Storm had attempted gunning for 2nd but DePedal had different plans of keeping him and Cal at bay. As the last stretch came into view DePedal and Storm came head to head. Barely any difference between the 2nd and 3rd place. Storm angrily huffed as he tried closing the gap only to be scrapped by the other car. He grit his teeth at the sound of the crowd cheering mixed with the metal.

The anger was washed away a little as he saw McQueen drift to the left after the finish line. He jumped out of his car in a triumphant yell. Throwing his bright red helmet in the air as his crew rushed over to tackle him.

Storm and DePedal crossed the finish line. With Cal, Adrien and that yellow car close behind making their last turn to the straightaway.

DePedal in 2nd with Storm barely at the back of his front tire in 3rd. Storm stayed out in his car as DePedal threw himself out of his. Hyping up his fans about his 2nd place win.

As DePedal and McQueen congratulated each other, Storm sat frustrated in his car. 3rd place, worse than his last one but at least he’d actually get paid. Storm took a deep breath as he felt Ray’s eyes on him. He shivered getting out of the car and signaling for his team to come check on it. Not bothering to take off his helmet from the beaming sun.

 _Shit._ Joon thought as Ray pushed himself past the crowd of fans to him. 

He straightened himself up preparing for a lecture as the slightly shorter yet stronger Ray approached him. Joon could swear he saw doom in every step. He closed his eyes expecting a pinch to his nose bridge. Instead, he got a firm grasp on his shoulder.

“You did… alright, Storm. I’d say it could’ve been better but, they did what they could.” Ray shrugged.

Joon looked down ashamed. He didn’t really need the boys help with the race. He could’ve handled it himself in all honesty.

“You did fine we got a good..”, Ray trailed off, as he pulled the bright yellow notepad out of his pocket,”$150 dollars? That’s another $50 you can take out for your car.”

Ray looked past Storm’s shoulder and whistled at the scratched up dented car. It’s glossy black paint now a mesh between an abstract art piece of dirt and scratched paint from other cars, “Yeah... make that $60.” Ray corrected, scribbling out something on the notepad before tapping his pencil down on it in finality.

“We got a lot of big races coming up soon, Storm. We really can’t afford many more losses, last season you got the whole town up in a ruckus over your win against _Chick-fucking-Hicks_. Compared to that this one was..decent at best, but we need you to train harder for it.” Storm sighed, just thinking about the next week or so of 1000 lap training sessions made him want to sleep for a year. Ray noticed the unhappy look on his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look, your next race is about two weeks. I think I can stand to give you a bit of a break.”Storm perked up at the offer, “I was going to make you train on the Grand Cloud Speedway in preparation after this one but, we did what we could. Go take a load off, Storm.” Ray patted his shoulder. “You earned it, I gotta stop running you into the ground too much. Go take a walk around the beachfront or something.” Ray waved his hand in the air. “But, I want you back by 7:00pm or so to go over your training regiment with Natalie again. Capeesh?”

“Roger that,” Joon saluted. Stepping aside and letting a few of his crew tend to his precious car. 

Ray nodded in response and headed back towards the tent. Joon sighed and began to help his crew check over the car. He set his helmet down in the drivers seat.Racers were still coming past the finish line, a lot of rookies throwing their helmets down in tantrums. He spotted the car wrecks from the turn being hauled away. A tight lipped frown stretched his face as an unconscious racer was wheeled away on a stretcher. He twiddled with his earring out of nervousness.

 _They really did what they could huh?_ Joon thought, as he watched he overhead the other more experienced racers nearby talk about how the turn was different this year. 

Joon couldn’t really dwell on it as McQueen literally snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“You’re zoning out again.” Lightning remarked as he turned to face where Storm was staring. “Won’t fault you for this one either some of those racers got fucking wrecked…”

“Jesus…”

“Yup, holy shit,” Lightning clicked his tongue.

The two stood silent for a moment as they watched the cleanup. It was around 5:00pm. The track was still hustling around with activity.

“It's not exactly the prettiest place but, why don’t you come with me for a walk along the beachfront?” Lightning asked, rubbing the side of his neck, he winced a little as well. 

_Almost forgot about that._

“We could talk, maybe shit on some racers- Oh!” McQueen pulled out a wad of cash from his jacket pocket. The cracked paint of the flames lining it stretched with age. Lightning waved the cash in Storm’s face, “And, we can get ice cream! The beach is way too damn hot even if it’s barely sunset and especially with all them around. ”McQueen signaled to the crowd, “My crews got me covered and yours seems to too. Whaddya say?”

Storm smiled, “Free food.” He shrugged, elbowing McQueen as he walked ahead of him. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

————————-

“Is it really called a pier?”

“Yes, Lightning.”

“I didn’t know, _Jackson.”_

Joon felt the smirk flutter across his face. Despite every bone in his body telling him he shouldn’t be feeling anything, he had to admit that being around Lightning was a refresher. Hours of training and stress-filled races left him without much to do. With Lightning around he could be dragged anywhere and still come out with at least something. 

They were approaching the pier, it still felt new with its coats of elaborate paintings lining the wooden walls of it. There were barely any barnacles on the legs of it too. 

The two had strolled down to the local ice cream vendor not far from the pier. Joon noticed McQueen side-eyeing the obnoxious newspaper clippings that littered the side of the booth. As usual the small world of Florida was obsessed with Mr. Lightning McQueen. He’d wanted to ask McQueen about the staring contest he was having with the clippings but, the aggressive ripping and tearing of one of the clippings mentioning a “Carerra” let him know that it wasn’t exactly his business. After the two left the booth McQueen seemingly forgot about his anger after taking an uncalled for chunk out of his ice cream. 

It’s only been a good half hour, and Lightning won’t stop talking with his mouth full. As they continued down to the pier Storm found himself shielding his eyes from McQueen’s horrible flirting with any passerby that recognized him.From getting strawberry ice cream to a small bag of kettle corn, to Joon, he looked like a five year old who just stole his dad’s wallet. After all of the haggling and offers, Joon settled with a red and blue popsicle.

“You’re more of an idiot than I thought the Great Lightning McQueen would be,” Storm glanced over to see Lightning’s face. It’s clear as day that McQueen enjoyed their time. 

“Well I’ve never heard of you before this,” Lightning fired back, licking his ice cream cone again.

“I’ll beat your ass this next race. Grand Cloud speedway, sucker.”

“Please do.”

Storm rolled his eyes and sighed a little. “Speaking of beating asses, I hope I didn’t upset you last night….”

_Why was I raised right to apologize for my dumb shenanigans._

Lightning’s face lit up, making Storm feel uneasy.

“What are you talking about? It was the best night of my life!”

Caught off guard, Storm swung his whole body to face Lightning. “You _liked_ me cock blocking you..? Most guys would be furious let alone pissed and then saying something about their privilege or whatever.”

“Are you _really_ surprised by that?” McQueen cocked an eyebrow up. “I’ve had people straight up ask for it the moment I meet them-“

“Sure you do.” Storm rolled his eyes, “I bet you get off to yourself.”

“Pfft,” Lightning swatted his hand in the late afternoon air. “I’m not that full of myself.”

“ _And_ I bet you have a collection of yourself in your room, don’t you?” 

Lightnings gasped dramatically, “Do not!”

“ _Lies.”_

McQueen huffed and gently smacked Storm in the shoulder. Storm stumbled back a little before taking a bite out of his slowly melting popsicle. Very much noticing how McQueen watched him intently.

“So, last night-“

“Yeah, last night-“

Storm felt the sting on his neck as he rubbed it again. 

“Does it still hurt..?”

“Fuck you.”

“Wow defensive.”

“Anyway last night, it was…The most fun I had in awhile.” 

“When was the last time Jackson Storm had fun?”

This actually stumped Storm, taking him a moment to respond. “Probably six months ago..? Maybe longer? Just me feeling free, if you hadn’t noticed I prefer being alone.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing, “But what’s the point of having fun when I get the same feelings from racing…”

“Hmm, true. Don’t you ever wanna just live a little? Get on the wild side, be free from your parents.”

“How can I? I can barely live for myself when I have to be aware of everyone else. The race track, home, and the bowling alley is where I can be in my element.”

The two came upon the end of the pier, sunset was creeping in the blues of McQueen’s eyes barely noticeable as they looked out into the horizon. Lightning leaned against the wooden railing. Setting aside his kettle corn and chomping away at the ice cream cone.

“Isn’t that lonely? It sounds so formulaic,” Lightning fake gagged, spitting out bits of the waffle cone.

“Says the rich white guy,” Storm side eyed Lightning, mildly disgusted at the way the other man ate,”I don’t exactly have the freedom to do as I please,” Storm waved a hand in front of his face, “If you couldn’t tell.”

McQueen sighed, “Can’t exactly argue with that.” He wasn’t one for pushing into people’s personal lives. Especially with the climate around here and the subject of last night still hanging in the air, he had to salvage the former conversation. That’s what they came here to do right? Have fun. Talk shit. Maybe get another night in? Who knows.

Lightning gulped down the last of his waffle cone. Turning to Storm before sighing loudly. _Pick a subject McQueen pick a subject-_

“So, close call huh? I could see you, Cal and DePedal in my mirror trying to fucking kill each other. Quite entertaining if you ask me. Too bad your baby got wrecked on the turns...Ol’ Lighting took a beating too.” McQueen rushed out, hopefully it didn’t seem _too_ forced.

“Yeah, “ Storm sighed, “Took a cut out of my win money.” _Oh thank god he took it._ McQueen untensed his shoulders. “Cal owes me big time for scraping her up. That man is gonna pay.” Storm’s eyes glinted at the thought of revenge as he aggressively bit off a chunk of his popsicle. McQueen held back a lip bite at the sight.

“What’re you gonna do?” _Should I be encouraging this?_ , “Make him fix your car for free?” McQueen asked leaning a bit forward off the railing as he picked up the rest of his kettle corn. He popped a few of the treats in his mouth. 

Storm chuckled, turning to face McQueen. His grey eyes hooded with a sly smirk painting his face. “Nah, we have a ritual.” _He winked._

Lightning spit out some kettle corn almost choking on a piece. “Are you two fucking-“

“Bowling you dumb shit.” Storm rolled his eyes.

“Why do you like that sport so much, huh?” McQueen rubbed at his throat.

Storm gave his usual dismissive shrug, “It always seemed to be my type of crowd.” Storm sighed, thinking back to the old days with his friends sitting around the tables near the alleys. 

Lightning hummed in response, “As far as I can tell it suits you.” 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Storm challenged.

“I just get the _vibes_ , you know? I’m a bowling ball and you’re a pin waiting to be knocked over.”

“You barely even _hit_ any of the pins when we playe-“

“Oh? What about when we were in the car? What pin did I hit, Mr. Storm?”

A silence stretched between the two as Storm stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re un-be-fucking-leaveable.” Storm groaned, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Do you think with your dick?!” 

“Correction, it’s my bowling balls-“

Storm burst out laughing. Reaching to shake McQueen not caring if he spilled the kettle corn everywhere. “Why are you like this?!” He laughed and screamed alongside a very confused but almost as hysterical McQueen.

“You like it, don't lie!” 

“Well maybe I do, huh?!” _Fuck._

Storm stopped shaking McQueen, the laughter between the two came to screeching halt. Storm’s eyes were blown wide, his mouth agape as he stuttered. McQueen’s mouth slowly turned into a smirk.

_Might as well own up to it..._

“I. Fuck, ya know what. Yeah, I do like it. Problem?”

“No, no problem at all.”

Storm relaxed ever so slightly as the tension between them died out. McQueen let himself share a humble gesture of a soft smile. 

“Well good thing me giving you this won’t be too awkward now!” McQueen grinned ear to ear like a dumbass.

“What the fuck-“

McQueen pulled out the rest of his ‘spending money’ and swatted it into Storm’s free hand. About $250 dollars. Right in his hand without a single shit in the world.

“What the hell?! Is this some kind of sick joke? I don’t need your pity-“

“Take the fuckin money! I don’t need it, clearly your car does!” McQueen waved frantically at Storm, “I hope she gets better soon and yadda, yadda. Get a new paint job or something. Plus? thanks for putting up with my bullshit, and ball puns-“

“I’m not a hustler-“

“Shhhh,” he put his finger to Storms lips. Storm couldn’t deny the emotions that came up when the leather touched him.“You created the best night of my life last night, and lemme tell ya. I’ve had _many_ great nights.,”he watched Storm’s stare go from pissed to confused to unreadable..maybe he didn’t change expressions at all.

“No need to thank me, just call me. Send a letter by neons or some shit I dunno. Ask Sally at Flo’s if it’s important. Just, _call._ ” He stuffed a handful of kettle into his mouth and walked away.

Storm watched him leave in more of a mix of confusion and gratitude. Fucking pity money? He looked down at the wad of cash in his hand and saw it had a small slip with some digits and Lightning’s signature. “What a moron…”


	5. The insides of IGNTR

The radio blasted into the cool morning air. Dawn sunlight just peeking out from the palm trees. Painting the sky with cool blues and pinks. The McQueen Manor loomed overhead. Bright orange in contrast with the cool sky. 

Lightning stared up in the sky with his big red heart shaped sunglasses. Of which were originally Emie’s. He stole them from her for his 8th grade dance. He sighed loudly as he laid on his floats, cruising through the big pool in the backyard. Beer in one cup holder and a can of dog treats in the other. The echoes of running water filled the air alongside the jazz on the radio. His lil’ ol dog, Bourbon paddled around the pool his dark fur making him look like a moving rug. 

He wore obnoxious striped swim trunks that he could’ve sworn had gotten lost 4 years ago at Fireball beach. Maybe, he bought a new pair? Did he actually bring them home? The world may never know.

Emie was cleaning up on the pool deck, her pink polo shirt neatly folded up at the arms. “Why haven’t you tried dating that one fella at the diner? He seemed like your type.” McQueen pipped up from his float, he threw a treat over at Bourbon. It bapped the ol’ dog in the face before he caught it midfall-the damn dog had a better sense of aim than he did.

Emie shook her head, fishing the leaves out of the pool with the extended pool net. “I don’t even wanna stand close to your diner.”

Lightning sat up quickly, almost spilling his beer, “What makes you say that?”

Emie glared at him dead in the eye, the he look of a woman who was too used to her son being a dumbass,“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Ohh,” Lightning laid back again, the float squishing as he did so, “Just because I hook up there, doesn’t mean you should too, doesn’t seem like much of your crowd anyways.”

She huffed reaching for more leaves, loosely brushing the net against Lightning's float in an attempt to move him.“I don’t want to go somewhere knowing you might be in the back doing..’stuff’.,” Emie placed more leaves in the pile next to her. Quickly shooing away Bourbon who was attempting to dry off in the inch high pile of leaves. She wiped the sweat from her brow, “Enough playing matchmaker, Monty. Did you ever hear back from Mr. Jackson Storm?”

“I mean, yeah, I saw him on the track again, and will for the rest of the season-“ McQueen whined, rolling his eyes like a teenager.

“Don’t give me sass.” Emie quipped back. 

“Sorry, Emie… but Storm and I did walk on the pier, and got a few snacks,” he smiled at the memory. “And nothing ended too weirdly. Gave him a small seat of money.”

Emie smirked and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” McQueen raised his hands up in defense,”His car got fucking scrapped, plus he could get new gloves or something.” He waved dismissively, taking a quick swig of his beer. Ignoring the scowl Emie gave him at cursing, “Anyway, he admitted to liking our little make out session.” He stated proudly, “In fact, I think he loved it.”

“Oh, really now? Every date says that.” Emie chuckled as she continued cleaning, now barely invested in her work.

“No you don’t understand.” He sat up and paddled the floaty her in direction, looking like a weird tan duck. “Storm admitted to liking me, _I think_. And I like him. He’s a fucking hardass with an ass, obviously. Maybe I have a chance…”

“So does that mean that you’ll actually clean your room for once?” She bapped McQueen on the head with the net. 

Lightning pouted, “Maybe…”

Emie chuckled, “If that boy ends up being a frequent guest, I don't think he'd appreciate your clothes everywhere; including the articles that aren’t yours.”

Lightning gasped, “You think I, Montgomery McQueen, cheat on my significant other?”

“Oh, so when’s the wedding?”

Lightning glared, getting up, “Why, you-“ 

_SPLASH!_

He flipped his floaty upside down, completely spilling the beer and treats. He frantically moved underneath the water.

Took him a minute to come back up with a frown. 

Emie stood there laughing, trying not to fall over. Her frail body couldn’t take the sight of her son being an idiot.

“I lost the sunglasses…”

This only made Emie laugh harder, “Monty, I bet you can get another pair-“ she started, wiping a fake tear from her eyes.

“We interrupt your broadcast with some breaking news. Another robbery had commenced merely an hour ago. Officials say it might be the same group of individuals from the previous robberies and disturbances earlier this week. Keep an eye out, witnesses said they might have weapons. Now back to your regularly scheduled program.” Bourbon barked at the loud announcement from the raido. The sound surely waking up the neighbours.

Joon rolled his eyes, “How are you guys so sloppy? The radio says this shit almost 24/7.” Joon smacked the back of the stand the radio sat on, a loud ‘bang!’ rang like a bell through the warehouse.

“But we never get caught,” snickered Jay who was popping out one of the tires of Joon’s car. He was one of the few people around here Joon was comfortable making conversation with. Didn’t really get rid of how he was close to rivaling him in snark. Jay adjusted the half chewed up lollipop stick in his mouth, “And luckily neither do you, huh?”

Joon bit back his tongue. He hates that the boys know how to get to him. He sighed and leaned against the walls of the warehouse/garage. It was supposed to be another part of the IGNTR headquarters but it’s purpose now was to house his car and deal with the boys blathering.

Joon watched the crew hustle around his car and took a long puff out of his cigar. His old oil covered rag draped over his shoulder, staining his light blue polo. They were really only allowed to fix or meddle with it under his, Ray or Gale’s supervision. That’s one leg he had up on em. He thought back to the wad of cash and McQueens phone number. He hadn’t exactly told his team of the encounter, mostly to avoid the incessant gay jokes that would be thrown at him.

He didn’t realize he looked visibly deep in thought before another one of the boys pipped up again. 

“Ya look like you’re a-thinkin, January. Whaddya got in mind? Thinking about dicks or racing? Maybe both?” Jason Reed, a rich asshat who only was in this for the fun of destroying property or whatever, asked. Jason rolled a tire to rest beside a stack of them. He didn’t get to work on the car as he was new around here. A peasant amongst them really, he thought as he put out his cigarette on the floor with a crunch.

Joon grit his teeth into a forced smile before chucking the oil covered towel at him. Hitting Jason square in the face with a wet, ‘smack!’. Some of the boys burst out laughing while others tried to stifle themselves. Jason stumbled into the tire stack with a yelp falling into a tower of them.

Joon rolled his eyes, ignoring the yelling and folded his arms. He turned back to continue watching the boys fix his baby. 

He’s been with these guys for about 4 years now, he’s seen people come and go. Some go in more brutal ways than necessary. Ray barely gave him any information on how long they’ve been running this jig. All he knows was that the former IGNTR representative racer was expelled for being one of the “people who couldn’t see past the looks of the racer.” Joon was thankful, but considering the people here. He wished Ray would do the same to them.

“He’s got a point ya know, gotta plan for that next race.” Jeremy Taylors, one of the more experienced mechanics around, said as he popped open the hood. “We know you’re uh... what was the word… I know I heard Mr. Reverham said it once.” Jeremy tapped his chin in question, “Oh! Some sorta racing prodigy? Gotta keep your image clean or whatever.”

“You think I don’t already do that?” Joon snapped back.

“Aye! I’m just saying that if the reporters see you continuously with that McQueen, you’re the new couple in the celebrity section of the paper. And you know how much they like to stalk em’. Good ol’ McQueen family,” Jeremy chuckled as he stuck his face underneath the hood to inspect the engine.

Joon purposely looked at the sun's reflection on his car to glare at something, mumbling, “I hate when you’re right.”

“Huh? What did the lug say?” One of them pointed out with a wide ass grin.

“None of your _business_ , you prickly ass sewer rat! Wipe that shit eating grin on your face or I’ll tell Ray you haven’t been doing shit!” Spat back Joon.

“Big talk for some lackey who can’t even help us with _our_ doings? What are we your servants?” One chuckled as another one added,”Y’all got maids in fucking Korea or whatever right?” Another scoffed as he expected the dent on the drivers side. 

“That’s the whole reason you work here dipshit. _I_ bring you back money, _I_ give you guys your alibis, your bail money.” Joon threw himself off the wall he was resting on, ready to strangle any of the boys. He stomped over, grabbing the one working on the drivers door by the collar. “And what are you? _Expendable fodder.”_

The lackey laughed in his face, “You hesitate too much.” He grinned from ear to ear, “Just like your father-“

Joon head butted the lackey and threw him to the side. Stumbling back against the stack of tires Jason was still stuck in. He was ready to crush their skull in. He snatched the crowbar sitting on the tool bench. The members around him cheered on for a fight before Ray came out of his office, coffee in hand.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Ray yelled amidst the shouting. Causing the cheering to quiet down almost immediately. As Ray scanned the room his frown grew with every detail he saw. Somehow someone had managed to land themselves legs in the air into a tire tower.

Ray sighed massaging his temple. “I’m not even gonna fucking ask. Gale!”

Gale peeked her head out of the office, “Yeah?”.

“Watch over these boys while Storm and I have a talk.”Ray tilted his head toward Storm. “Office, _now.”_

Storm hung his head, walking towards the office. He kicked a lackey stifling a laugh before giving a quiet, “s’cuse me” to Gale at the door.

“And you guys.” Ray glared, “Fix the damn car or none of you shits are getting paid.” He snapped before following Storm into the office as Gale walked out to oversee the repairs.

Storm rested his legs on the office desk, he was slumped against his chair like a ragdoll. Ray sighed as he sat down and put his head in his hands.

The office wasn’t big or fancy, but nor was it particularly drabby looking either. It was really only a small bit of what IGNTR really was, this was only a temporary. The walls weren’t painted, still the depressing concrete gray it originally was only maybe not as shit looking. Ray’s desk and chair were at least kind of fancy. Wood polish and a ugly patterned chair, it wasn’t half bad. The window in the office held some frilly navy blue curtains that looked more obnoxious than Storm’s hair.

“As annoying as these assholes are, I really didn’t expect them to bring up your _father.”_

“Honestly it was a matter of time at this point.” Storm said nonchalantly.”So,” Storm sat up just a little straighter, “Whatcha gonna do now? Lecture me on attempting to beat the shit out of him-“

“Why would I lecture you on that? I don’t blame you, it was warranted.”

“ _Just like my father”,_ Storm mocked the lackey's voice, slumping back into his chair again.Cursing the guy from under his breath. “You know, you should really start firing people.” 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“They’ll find their way out of here one way or another. I tend to let them choose.”

Storm put his hands up in frustration, “They’re in one of the best gigs, gang wise, in town. They’re not gonna willingly choose to leave.”

Ray looked up with a stern expression, “Who's been in this business longer? You?”

Storm put his feet down in defeat, “No sir.”

“You might be our best source of income, safety wise, but you’re not the one in charge around here. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Storm dug his nails into his palms to fight the urge to say something back.

Ray sighed and leaned back into his chair, “I didn’t mean to snap. Let’s take a ten minute break.”

Storm nodded slightly and got up. Right before he left, Ray commented, “Don’t let those assholes outside get to ya. I’ll make sure they won’t do it again.”

Storm nodded one more time, then walked out of the building. He glanced at the boys when turning the corner. We walked a little down the way to a nearby telephone wire. He flipped through his pockets to find twenty cents. He picked up the phone.

All he could hear was the radio silence. He put the ten cents in and dialed an old familiar number. Storm fiddled with his earring, biting his lips in stern thought.

_God I hope this works._

Ring.

Ring.

“Oh for the love of-“

“Weathers residents! How may I help you?” The soft, kind womanly voice said.

“May I speak to Cal Weathers? It’s Jackson Storm.”

“Yes sir. One moment please.”

The phone went on hold. It only took a few seconds to hear a new voice on the other line. A more deep voice that still had the sweet soft tone with a hint of a southern accent. 

“This is Cal.”

Storm smiled at himself, then chuckled, “You owe me for what you did yesterday, punk.”

“Ah, yeah. You know it’s all part of racing.” Cal chuckled through the phone. Storm could swear he could hear Cal’s shrug through the phone.

“But you know how long I’ve been keeping her together.”

“By paste and spit. Maybe some blood too.”

“Shut up!” Storm laughed. “Ba- Cal. You owe me big time.”

“Noooo!”Cal exclaimed in mock despair.

“Sixty big ones, Cal. Cough it up.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Or maybe I buy you something?”

“Don’t need much but a game and a meal.”

“Ramone’s. 8pm tomorrow night. I’ll pick up.”

“Nah, I’ll meet you there, punk.”

“Sounds like a date, jerk.”

“Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“Bring the money.”

“How else am I supposed to pay?”

“You figure it out.”

Cal began to laugh, almost hysterically.

Storm probably stayed on the line too long before hanging up. He sighed with a grin on his face. He looked at the extra ten cents in his hand and pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper with McQueen’s number on it. Contemplating for a moment, he picked up the phone, put the money in, and dialed the number.

Ring.

Ri-

“Hello? McQueen residence. The heads of the house aren’t exactly home right now…” Joon was taken aback by the voice of an elderly woman. Unknowingly it was Emie on the other line.

“Hello, I’m here to talk to Lightning McQueen.”

“We don’t accept reporters-“

“I’m an old friend. May I speak to Mr. McQueen?”

He heard her sigh through the phone as she seemed to contemplate whether to pass the line off,” Alright, sir. One moment please.”

The phone must’ve been pressed to her chest because all of a sudden Joon heard a muffled, ‘MONTY’ and the frantic running to follow.

Took everything in Storm to keep his composure. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

A minute later did McQueen take the phone, “Fabulous, Lightning McQueen speaking.” His skin prickled a bit, he swore he could hear the wide grin through the line.

“Hey, _Monty._ ”

“No. You don’t call me that, _Jackie_.”

“No one has ever called me that name, dipshit.”

“Well no one ever calls me ‘Monty’.”

“Clearly you let everyone at home.”

“Whaddya want?” Lightning’s patience was running out, even if Storm saying his real name was hot it was still a name he hated. Lightning put on his best asshole tone.

“Wanna ask you to meet up with me at one of my favorite spots.” Storm said, his heart racing. He shoved a hand into his pocket to keep cool.

With a complete monotone voice, “Let me guess,..”

“The bowling alley,” they said in unison.

“The same one from before?” 

“Nah, I got a better place with even better food and people.”

“Hey! Don’t diss on the people at the other place, they were chill!”

“Like you know them.”

“Ma-Maybe I do! I know, Doc-“

“He literally called you a punk.”

“Shut up.”

“Anyway! Go downtown, at 21st and 3rd street. To the left of the Cozy Cone motel and the two apartment buildings, there’s the spot. Be there at 8:00 tomorrow night. Got it?”

“No. Is this a drug deal?”

“Perfect, I’ll see ya there buddy boy!”

“Don’t buddy boy me you little-“

Storm hung up the phone and sighed. _Man, Joon you’re so good at interacting with people._ He bumped into the door of the booth before stepping outside to head back to the warehouse.

_God I should’ve just gone out for a smoke instead._

———-————

Storm was staring at the clock in the kitchen, he seemed more nervous than usual. He tapped his toe incessantly on the kitchen floor. He sat at the kitchen table the ticking of the clock being the backdrop to his never ending stream of thoughts. 

He spent the entirety of today practicing in Grand Cloud. Even after maybe the 2,000 laps and the 12 close calls with the wall he did he was still nervous.

It didn’t help that on his way around town he’d spotted McQueen chatting with his friends in the storefronts. He could’ve talked to him but by the glares and sneers he got from a couple he decided against it. Choosing dignity over being harassed and questioned over robberies. The guys didn’t exactly look like McQueen’s usual posse of asshats, it rubbed him the wrong way, but it really isn’t any of his business.

_Nothing will fall apart. Nothing will go wrong. Please please please. I swear if someone does on-_

“Joon?”

Joon jumped, startled by his own mother. His mom jumped at his sudden movement with a small squeak. Storm would bet she had just woken up from a nap. If her purple nightgown was anything to go off of. 

“Ack, Nanay. You scared me.” He put his hand to his chest taking a breath.

“Sorry, sorry!” She frantically waved. “I just wanted to know exactly what you’ll be doing tonight.” She continued and took a seat at their dining table across from him. Her bobcut was messy and ruffled, her crows feet made her eyes look even more closed. The dark brown of them peeking through a little as she yawned. It was around 7:00pm and about an hour before Joon had to head out.

His dad wouldn’t be back till late, that and the fact that he’d be going to Ramone’s put him on edge.

She rested her hands on the table and leaned a little forward ready to hear whatever her son had to say. 

Joon sat for a second trying to sort out his story. His mother really only knows the 3 alleys around here, not Ramone’s.

“I’m heading to the alley tonight. Meeting up with a few friends from work.”

“My baby is making friends! Oh! What about my future daughter-in-law?” She squealed, pushing her seat back with a loud creak. She noticed Joon’s slight wince.”Sorry-“

“It’s fine, Nay.” He sighed. _Fuck, why did she have to ask about McQueen_? “Yeah, she’s coming along too. Not a date really, she’s just coming to meet my friends.”

“I see, building the trust and making friendly connections! Wonder who your groomsmen will be,” She tapped her finger against her chin.”What about that Cal boy? Maybe you two could get double married!” 

Joon forced a strained smile. He got flashbacks to when his mother thought he was dating another girl and had a weird love triangle with Cal. She tended to think of his relationships much like the romances she read.

“Yeah, maybe. Who knows really..”

“Well, it is your relationship. Don’t let me meddle in it, although do think about it!”

Joon hummed and room a glance at the clock, 7:30. About 15 minutes before he had to go.

She clasped her hand together in delight,”Tell me which, one are you going to?”

Joon felt his heart skip a beat,” Its, Docs alley. You plan on coming along too? We are gonna be there a while…”

“Sorry, anak. I have to watch the house for tonight. Please don’t be back very late okay?” A soft smile graced her lips, but he could tell there was still some pain behind it. Joon’s heart tightened at the thought of leaving her alone for long. They’ve had the same conversation-or some variation of it-every time he went out during the night. It hurt him just as bad as it did when he was a kid, his breathing hitched as he attempted to push the thoughts away from his mind. _Not tonight,_ he repeated in his head. She’ll be safe and he damn well knows it.

“Tatay won’t be back till late again.” She sighed.

 _“Like the usual?”_ He refrained from saying. “Ah, I see. What time do you want me back?”

“Around 10-11, would be nice. But, please enjoy your nigh-“

“I’ll be back around that time I promise.” He assured her. He took another glance at the clock , it was 7:40.”Shit, I gotta go.”

_“Language.”_

“Sorry, Nay.”, Joon stood up from his chair quickly and grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair. He quickly strides towards the door. 

“Excuse me!” His mother called from the table.

“Ah, sorry-“ Joon ran over and gave his mom a quick kiss on the cheek,”Mahal kita!” he yelled back as he ran towards the door.

“Love you too, anak! And lock the door on your way out!”


	6. A dumbass, a milkshake and his friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much apologies for the late update!! We’re really busy with life rn <3 Thank you all so much for your patience!! This chapter takes place the same day when Storm calls him btw

Emie stood back as McQueen pouted when Storm hung up the phone. She could tell he liked the company and banter, and she could tell even more that he didn’t like it when it stopped. She watched as he sat there for a moment. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head. 

“Well, I guess we got another ‘date’ now,” Lightning hurriedly said, plopping the phone back into its place with a reluctant ‘clunk.’ Emie knew that tone, a nervous little squeak in the sea of rambunctious regular ol’ Monty shenanigans. 

Storm managed to land his call during a debacle with the heads of the McQueen house. Emie glanced at Monty’s shaky hand, loosely hanging from the phone stand. The bickering from the upstairs bedroom had quieted down after the phone rang, not wanting to taint their image in anyway. It made Monty nervous and on edge at times.

She softly put a hand on his shoulder. He let out a shaky breath as he shook off and regained his macho.

“Monty...,” Emie said softly almost as if she didn’t want to say anything at all.

Lightning was quick to answer, “I’m okay. I’ll take Bourbon on a walk around the backyard. Just-.” He groaned before shaking himself off. He gave Emie a smile, “I’ll be fine!”

She knew it was one of his fake ones… 

He looked over at the dog who was plopped down near the foot of the staircase, “Let’s go boy!” The old dog got up slowly and walked outside with Lightning.

He refused to accept Bourbon was almost as old as he was, saying to himself that the dog was young at heart. They began their journey around the house with the pool. Lightning began the one sided conversation with another big groan that almost sounded like a yelp for help. 

“I fucking hate it here!” he exclaimed, kicking one of the pebbles into the pool. He shriveled as he heard the small plop, Emie was gonna kill him. 

He sighed heavily, “You would think it wouldn’t be hard to keep everything under control. I mean, we have enough money to run an entire state, let alone keep the press out of our lives.”

He threw his hands up in the air, “How am I supposed to keep them away?! They have us under a fucking microscope or whatever the fuck it’s called,“ Lightning glanced at his dog for reassurance.

The dog didn’t say a word. Only sniffing around at some spots on the ground before catching up to his owner and nudging Lightning’s knee.

This made McQueen smile, “Sorry, you poor widdle puppy!”

He stopped to rub Bourbon’s face and kiss it over and over. “You poor widdle buppy, don’t need big boy problems! You go live your life with tons of treats and love and long naps! Baby baby baby!” He made cooing noises and smothered the dog again with kisses and pets. He could tell that his neighbours were trying so hard not to be freaked out.

Bourbon was a staple in Lightning’s life since he was 16. A half-assed Christmas present that year. So half-assedly wrapped that the puppy managed to escape the confines from under the tree and wreak havoc all over the manor. From that moment on McQueen knew, ‘Yes this was the one.’ For 10 years Bourbon’s been at his side and goddamnit, if he wasn’t going to pamper him. As if living in a mansion and getting free food everyday wasn’t enough. 

The two walked around the yard for about an hour, McQueen watching Bourbon sniff around and explore his long time home again. The dog had gotten stuck in some bushes a few times after trying to smell the flowers.

“Y’know Bourbon,” McQueen started, dusting off the flower petals and leaves before looking up at the looming mansion.

“Sometimes being here gets annoying. Don’tcha just wanna run away sometimes? Fuck, Bourbon why cant i just live my fuckin’ life?! S’not that hard-“ Pfft, hard, “Those fucking hypocrites. Fuckin’ preaching to the press about literally everything that happens, when all you’re good for is breaking shit!”

He ran a hand through his messy hair, “Y’all are saying I’m not your fucking son cause ‘ohhhh noo Monty fucked a guy’, well I wouldn’t know since you cheat on each other every fucking week! Yelling at me isn't going to make me change or fucking ‘win my love back.’ This isn’t ‘a phase’, or ‘being reckless’ and ‘ruining the family name’. He ranted angrily, air-quoting multiple phrases.

“‘Keep it in your pants, Montgomery’,” he mocked in his mother’s voice. 

The anger from every past relationship that his mother had fucking ruined came boiling up the surface, “Fuck you! You didn’t keep it in your pants when you started cheating on each other! How am I supposed to live with that? Huh?! You two are so fucking annoying!” He let out an angry groan and punched the nearest palm tree - it barely shook. He grit his teeth ignoring the possible splinters now piercing his knuckles. 

Bourbon sneezed in response. His head was buried in the Shasta Daisies in the yard. 

“You’re right! I’ll call up Sals, and ask her for some words of wisdom!” Lightning ran back inside the house and quickly dialed the phone, almost dragging poor Bourbon behind him.

It rang.

Then it rang some more.

Sally lazily picked up the phone, it was a slow day at the diner. Rare but not unappreciated.

Finally, “Flo’s Diner! This is Sally talking, how may I help you?”

“Hey Sals~”

“Oh, it’s you. Whaddya want, Stickers. You gonna pay your tab yet?” Sal asked, smiling smugly as she fiddled with her uniform. 

“Wanna hangout on your lunch break? I need some guidance.”

“I’m not too good at the whole dating thing.”

“It’s not about that.”

“If this is about the media and newspapers and shit, we’ve had this conversation more than once. You’ll be fine. Promised to not let Flo hang up anymore of the articles and big headlines about you in the diner.”

“Yeah, I know. But you always screw my head on straight.” Straighter than my parents think I am-

“Uh huh, yeah, I have lunch at 2pm, and just letting you know, I gotta drop off something at a friend’s house.”

“I’ll drive!” McQueen said a little too excitedly.

“I know you will,” Sally rolled her eyes, “I’ll see ya in an hour, stickers.”

“Alrighty, Sals!” he practically yelled into the phone, hanging it up with a slam. He looked over at Bourbon whose head was plopped down on his shoe, even if their walk was barely even an hour long. He carefully slid his foot out from under the dog and picked up his baby. He strained a little as he set little ol’ Bourbon down in his too big dog bed.

“I’ll be back later, okay boy?” He scratched the dog's fluffy head lovingly, “Watch Emie for me, capeesh?”

He gave the dog one final scratch before heading out to the garage for his car.

—————————

Sally laughed hysterically as she hopped out the driver’s seat of Lightning’s car. She leaned against the door trying to catch her breath as a very annoyed and pouty McQueen took off his milkshake covered leather jacket. Lightning had insisted on getting a milkshake at the diner before he and Sal headed out for the outskirts of town. 

Safe to say it didn’t end well for the drink or Lightning but for Sally it was the highlight of her day.

“Fuckin’, s’your fault, Sals!” Lightning accused shaking off his jacket and checking his shirt for any further damage,”Not only didya get it on my lucky jacket but it’s on my damn lucky shirt!”

On the car ride there McQueen had been too busy yapping about Storm. One thing led to another and he ended up choking on his milkshake and needing Sally to drive them the rest of the way.

Sally wheezed even harder, bumping her head on the roof of the car as she took out the package and bags from the backseat. Her giggles turned into a sigh of pain, she let out an ‘ah fuck’ as McQueen snickered at her hitting her head on the roof of the car. Karma’s a bitch.

Lightning had been too distracted by his ruined clothes - which were now messily folded in his hands - to notice that they arrived at Mater’s place. If the bigass sign wasn’t already a dead give away, then the man himself who was working on his famous tow truck was. The unbridled joy of seeing his best friend again was clear as day and as bright as his gel covered hair. 

“Mater!” McQueen called out at the mechanic before sprinting towards him. He threw his messy clothes onto the hood of his car, almost hitting Sally, who narrowly avoided it with a yelp.

Mater perked up at the sound of Lightning yelling at him, “Lightning!”

Mater reflexively held his arms out for the blonde to run straight into him. Lightning landed into his friend in a blur as the two screamed and laughed like idiots. 

“Where is your shirt-” Mater started.

“You didn’t even bother to help me, huh?” Sally yelled walking over as she dusted off her skirt with her free hand. She set the bags down on the tool kart beside Mater, ”It’s like you two haven’t seen each other in years. You guys were at the Fireball beach race together yesterday.”

“Well, sorry Miss Sally but who wouldn’t be happy as a hillbilly seeing ol’ Lightnin’ again!”

McQueen let out a grunt as Mater threw an arm over his shoulder and shook him a bit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sally rolled her eyes, “Anyway, I brought you the extra screws you needed and the bacon and pancakes you usually get. Brought some extras for us too. McQueen was in charge of drinks but..,” Sally trailed off, eyes rolling over to the shirtless McQueen and his pouty face.

“But, you decided to make me choke on the cherry by going, ‘Hey, this cherry might make good practice for Storm!’” McQueen threw his hands around before pointing aggressively at Sally.

“Ohh, isn’t that the fancy shmancy racer you went on a date with after the race?” Mater questioned as he unwrapped the bag of tools.

“Which date?” Sally remarked.

“They went on two?”

“Guys-”

“I think they made out in the parking lot or something. At least that’s what Flo told me-“

“Guys-” McQueen said through a fake smile. 

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, “How about we take this inside, huh? I’ll tell ya more later.” Lightning gestured toward the small house near the yard.

“I could use a break,” Mater said, “ I can get these thingies set up later.”

“That was the plan,” Sally looked McQueen up and down for a brief second, “Besides, you should really put on some clothes. Don’t wanna ruin that ‘perfect tan’ for your boy.”

The group collected their things, and Lightning's last shred of dignity, and headed inside Mater’s house. The house was covered in flower wallpaper and an admittedly creaky floor. It was one story tall, a kitchen and a living room were one with a wall of photos and trinkets lining the back. The place was well kept, though a tad bit messy with the amount of projects and work Mater did. The mess was familiar to McQueen, a far cry from the mansion’s intoxicating cleanliness. Nothing against the cleaners though, except for the ones that went into his room without permission. Mater hung up his hat and work vest while Sally searched his kitchen for some extra blueberry syrup. 

Lightning plopped down on the couch in front of the coffee table as Mater headed to his room to fetch a new shirt for his friend. Lightning insisted on having his clothes be washed only by Emie. 

Sally clanged around the kitchen looking for a couple of glasses and some drinks. “So, how’s you and the boy?”

McQueen grumbled a response.

“I can't hear you,” Sally sang from the kitchen.

“We’re not together, Carrera.”

“Keep telling yourself that, McQueen.” Sally shot back. She gave an ‘aha!’ as she found the glasses. She took some juice out of the fridge, poured the glass and closed the door with a swish of her hips. 

“Whatever ya say, buddy!” Mater came down the steps, haphazardly throwing McQueen an oversized shirt. Almost hitting Sally again as she set the drinks down and opened up the takeout box. Mater flopped himself down in the squishy chair beside Lightning.

“Though, judging by the red on your face I bet you’re thinking otherwise,” McQueen rolled his eyes hiding his face in the shirt Mater gave him.

Lightning groaned as slid the shirt on, the majority of it hung off his sides. He and Mater sat silently staring at each other, McQueen with an uncomfortable smile, and Mater with a smug ‘I know what’s going on in your head’ grin. Sally finished setting everyone’s meal up and plopped herself down next to McQueen with an ‘oof’, grabbing one of the obnoxiously colored pillows and pulling it into her chest. She looked between the two men, and sighed. Guess I’ll just do it myself.

“So, Mr. McQueen here managed to catch the feels for some random racer he screwed-“

“We didn’t-“

“Shush, and now he won’t shut up about him. Look where that got ya, Stickers. Hell, he doesn’t even know if the guy likes him back.”

Mater nodded along with her explanation while the racer shriveled up into the couch. “And, yeah that’s all that Stickers would tell me,” Sally hummed taking a sip of her drink.

“So, you got a crush on a one night stand?” Sally choked on her drink as she struggled to not laugh at Mater’s straightforwardness.

“A one night stand?”

“That Storm guy-”

“That’s a nice stand,” Lightning leaned forward, pointing at the lamp stand.

“Lightning-”

“Where’d you get it from, Filmore’s? Looks damn nice-”

“Lightning!” McQueen looked over from his lamp stand investigation. Mater sighed and took a bite out of his pancake, “You’re avoiding the topic again, bud..”

Lightning sighed, he settled back into his place on the couch, “I… Fucking hell, I guess I do. It’s barely anything, though. He’s pretty and all, I just dunno if it’s a good idea y’know? You guys know what happened last time..,” Sally shivered as she remembered all of the time she and Flo spent having to yell at reporters on the phone.

“Those guys are parasitic,” Lightning spat.

“I don’t like em’ much either, pal. If you’re gonna go out with this Storm guy then by all means go ahead. Please, be careful though.”

“Those guys will do anything for a story, privacy isn’t in their vocabulary,” Sally grumbled. 

“Wish my mom knew what ‘privacy’ meant too.”

“Maybe we could all move to Californ-i-a like we planned back when McQueen was dating that bombshell,” Lightning made a gagging noise remembering how annoying Floridian surfer dudes can be, but dating one was a whole different story. Who the fuck likes gator meat? 

“Maybe,” Lightning hummed in consideration. It was way too drastic of a plan, and besides he wasn’t that dramatic anymore, or at least that’s what he thought. Sally would say otherwise.

“But did you actually get laid?” Mater bluntly asked.

“Pfft,” he rolled his eyes then shot a smirk. “You know I did.”

The two friends high fived in victory. But victory can only last so long.

Sally looked at them deadpanned, “He got cock blocked, Mater.”

Mater gasped dramatically, “NO!”

Defeated, Lightning sighed, “Sadly it’s true, my friend.”

“And it’s his kink,” Sally added.

“NO ITS NOT!” 

Mater gasped again, “The drama! The horror!”

“And the press will eat it up like a free buffet full of the most gourmet food that you’ve ever seen.” Sally watched Lightning’s face turn sour.

“Yeah, yeah...,” he mumbled, trying to brush off the topic.

“You cannot think that this isn't a problem,” Sally sighed. 

“I know-” she pointed at herself and Mater, “We know you’re gonna fuck up, maybe both of you. We already know how much you hate the media.”

Mater stared off in memory, “That night at Flo’s was the worst I’ve ever seen you, buddy… no need to have a repeat.”

McQueen thought back to that night a few years back, he was more reckless than. Any spotlight the press could give him he used to take in stride. He winced thinking about his old showboating, his ‘one man show era’, his ‘ who’s gonna change my tires oh boo hoo’ era. His rookie years. He was sure photos of himself lined peoples walls, anytime he did something the news ate it up like starving dogs. 

The night it came to a head when he had to hide in the backroom of Flo’s from a hoard of angry fans and gossip junkies. He’d gotten too cocky, took the attention to heart, thought he was on top of the goddamn world and let it slip he was dating a man. The police came to ‘help’, but their help was only because of the neighbours' noise complaints. It wasn’t the words thrown at him, not the destruction of Flo’s property, and certainly not for him. 

The press didn’t forget what happened, but their dumb little brains and the money that the McQueen family payed them off with caused their version of the story to be wildly different. Accusations flew like rocks at McQueen’s former partner, the media claimed him a ‘victim of homosexuals’. McQueen gagged at the statement.

Sally interrupted Lightning’s thoughts, “You have to remember that your ‘friend’ or whomever he is, isn’t going to do well either with the press as far as I can tell. He’s barely in it to begin with, I don’t remember the last time I saw a ‘Jackson Storm’ in the news. Not to mention, that he’s not white. With all of the crimes going on goes against him.” she sighed, commenting to herself, “That poor boy.”

“He doesn’t need our pity, I’m sure he’s seen it all before,” Lightning grumbled.

“Doesn’t mean we aren’t still worried. Jus’ call if you need a tow okay? Ain’t no job too big for Tow Mater!” Mater said proudly.

Lightning smiled, content with these two hooligans looking out for him. He loved his little Radiator Springs but the town, though small, had a habit of spreading the word like wildfire. He’d been at the hands of it more times than he could count.

————————-

McQueen propped himself up in the bright pink bar seat and sipped on his insanely sugary strawberry milkshake. Mater was chatting with Flo, something about new milkshake flavors and what-not. He shifted in his oversized shirt feeling some eyes in him, but most diner guests were too busy gulping down their burgers and fries. Today the cafe was slow, maybe a couple people in the far corners of the diner. Most customers were only here for takeout. 

He sat for a while twiddling his straw when he was dragged out of the diner by his arm. Ah fuck. He was pulled outside by some lackeys who Lightning barely recognized, but he knew them as troubled gatekeeping fanboys, and mentally prepared himself for the gag worthy shit they were set to spout.

Lightning zoned out of the conversation for the most part, only giving smalls ‘mhms’ and nodding along to their bullshit. He took a glance back in the diner to see Sally signaling to him if he needed any help. Lightning put up an okay sign in reassurance to his friend, Sally looked back worried, she seemed unwilling to move from the spot she could easily keep an eye on Lightning but she had to work. She already overstayed her lunch break anyway.

His zoning out was broken by one of the lackeys shaking his shoulders. He brushed it off with a slap to the other’s hand, “What?”

“Ain't that the blueberry from earlier?” He snickered.

Lightning froze,”Holy shit, I think it is him!” Now was the time for McQueen to say his prayers.

“He looks familiar now that I think about it.”

“Familiar everything…OH MY!”

McQueen hid inside of himself internally as the bell rang indicating the men walking through the threshold. 

The group ran over to Lighting. The two twins who’ve been following Lightning from the very beginning, smothering him. 

“OH!!!” The two girls swoon. 

“Hey girls…,” Lightning said quietly. Hoping to god they get off him. 

“Aye! Pretty boy!” The golden haired, blue eyed, perfect Ken doll replica, said with enough cockiness that McQueen and Chick combined couldn’t compete. 

McQueen cleared his throat, shaking off his clear nervousness. “Hey, Tim.”

Tim Langsberry couldn’t be more of a piece of white trash that you’d hope would just go away into the pits of hell and his little posse wasn’t any better. They were just as bad as the local gangs in town, but they have the police on their side. They could get away with almost anything.

“Whatcha plannin for the rest of the evening, Lightning?” Tim snickered. 

“Nothing. Winnin races as usual.”

“Ah! Atta boy!” Tim ringed McQueen by the shoulders. “So, are ya gonna do anything reckless with us tonight? We thought we gotta teach those yellows who's boss! Ya heard all the shit they’ve been up to right?”

McQueen internally cringed at the racism, “Nah not tonight. Maybe another time.”

He nervously smiled as the lackeys huddled him back inside the dinner. He could see a disgusted Sally hanging around the side of the bar.

“Awe! Pretty boy!” Tim swung himself around, hands on hips, a glimmer of gaslighting.

“You ignore us every time,” he pouted.

Another lackey piped up, “What about ol’ times Lightning? We used to be attached at the hip.”

“That was getting completely hammered before noon and playing pool and poker till the sun turned up.”

“Yeah, the good ol’ days,” Tim said nostalgically, though they do that every night and the last time McQueen joined them was six months ago. “The headlines. The fame. The broads. Them gals would swoon over us, do anything to touch us, to be like us.”

James, the right hand man, started ordering drinks for themselves. Looking up and down at Sally with judging eyes.

Sally scoffed away, getting whatever they ordered. Knowing her, she’d spit in their drinks for an extra kick of spice. Good ol’ Sals.

McQueen was brought down to earth with another world shattering question.

“So, whattya really doin’ tonight, pretty boy?” Tim was extra scary, the sly condescending look of murder and adventure.

“I have a date with a doll, that I’ve been steady with.”

Tim nudged the rest of the guys, “OH HO! BOYS! This is why good ol’ Lightning hasn’t been joinin’ us! He’s finally settled down for once!”

Did he really have to announce it to the entire establishment?

“Haha who knows,” McQueen rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact.

Tim’s smirk faded into a serious one. He came up close into McQueen’ grill. “You better not be lyin. I don’t want you to ditch again. Unless this gal isn’t a gal at all.”

His voice went down to a whisper, “I heard the rumors of you being a ‘fairy’, a lil faggot.”

McQueen shoved Tim off, “AYE! WE AGREED TO NOT BRING UP ANY OF THE SHIT THE MEDIA SAYS!”

Tim put his hands up in defense with a mocking frown, “Hey. Hey. You’re right, I overstepped my boundaries. Don’t disappoint, pretty boy.” He left, with James and the rest of them not far behind.

Sally huffed, cutting the ocean of tension, “I hate them. I’ll kill them one day.” 

She picked up one of the glasses the boys drank from with a cautious hand, making a gagging noise before heading back to rinse them.

McQueen watched them leave. The group society wants him to join, but he’ll never belong. A silence stretched between the diner, most people having ignored the ruckus.

Mater interrupted McQueen’s facade, “Hey don’t you got a date or something?”

“Yeah...let’s go. Bye Sals.”

———

Mater had driven in circles for a good hour now. His head poked out the window in search of their destination, “Where did you say the place was?”

McQueen felt the screech of the rusty wheels turning in his head, “21st and 3rd street…? Past a motel?” He shrugged with an unknowing smile.

Mater stopped the car in the middle of the empty Radiator Springs street, and looked Lightning straight in the eye. “Buddy.”

McQueen looked at him, trying to ignore the headache that was developing, roughly running a hand through his hair, “What?”

“That’s a gay bar and a bowling alley.”

McQueens eyes might as well have fallen out of his head. Shit.


	7. Wait wait wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait!! The lot of us are busy with school and life in general. Thank you so much for your patience<3

Lightning took in a breath as he opened the door to the alley. Unlike every other alley in Radiator Springs this one was hidden away, tucked into a little corner with a barely illuminated neon sign. It looked on the brink of falling apart from the outside. You had to walk down into a small corridor to even get to the entrance. Walking in the smell of polished wood filled the air, the space was crowded but not stuffy. It was a smaller alley no more than about 7 rows. Spectators and waiting participants stood off to the side with drinks in hand in front of a small bar. He asked the lad at the front desk, Ramone, about Storm and he was directed towards a booth with a pair of bowling shoes that likely weren’t his size.

Lightning was hesitant about the bowling alley, especially after what Mater said it was. He’s been waiting at one of the booths of apparently ‘Storm’s Spot’. That uhh totally didn’t make his mind go to places where they shouldn’t. Every time the bell rang, he’d look up. It’s been a good ten minutes. Everyone but Storm had walked in. Some looked oddly familiar. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t one for taking his time, if his presence on the track was anything to go off of. 

He was unable to sit still, tapping his foot on the metal pole holding the booth’s table up, untying and tying the laces on his shoes. He scanned the room for anyone he found attractive, just in case. He can’t really look at any of the goers without wishing they were Storm.

Fuck. Not saying I don’t wanna be stuck in a gay bar but alone and not knowing anything or doing anyone? Shitty of you, Storm.

The bell rang for the fourth time and he looked up. Finally Storm entered the building and… Cal Weathers was with him. Good ol’ Cal and his obnoxiously bright hawaiian shirt standing next to a almost all leather Storm who put out his cigar on the edge of a trash can.

Out of all people, Cal?

Storm got some shoes with Cal. It looked like Cal whispered something to Storm causing the man to wheeze. McQueen couldn’t tell who paid or what was happening. He knew one thing is they’re close, but how close… 

Before he knew it Storm was snapping his fingers in McQueen’s face, “Eyo! McQueen to earth! I swear sometimes you’re such a crick in the neck.”

“I’m here, stop snapping,” McQueen swatted Storm’s hand away.

Storm put his hands on his hips and then gestured over to Cal, “Weathers here owes me one for wrecking my car.”

Cal chuckled, “It was a tiny scratch.” He waved dismissively, loosely buttoning an opening on his shirt. 

Storm rolled his eyes and gave Cal a playful look, “It cost me my paycheck, Mr. Weathers.”

McQueen stood up to get into the conversation more, “Thought I already covered the damage for ya, Storm.”

“Ohhh! This was so you can beat my ass again at bowling!”, Cal smirked at Storm.

Storm scoffed, “Maybe.”

McQueen’s eyes shot back and forth between the two, not knowing what exactly was happening. The little cogs in his brain turned and cranked, processing what was happening. 

“So, y'all come here often I guess?” McQueen asked, putting his foot up on the chair of the booth to tie his shoes.

“Used to, didn’t really have the time since IGNTR,” Cal’s face smushed into mild disgust as he pushed a lock of ashy blonde hair out of his face. He was clean shaven, with a bit of a baby face and dimples to boot. McQueen had to admit the man looked good. Even if he was standing beside Montgomery ‘Lightning’ McQueen himself.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Cal added as he gave Storm a comforting squeeze on the shoulder,” Might as well make the most of it!” Lightning could swear he saw him wink.

Storm smiled and gave a small ‘yeah’ before taking McQueen by the arm to go pick out a ball. Lightning felt his heart hitch a little as Storm’s eyes scanned the rack. Cal had already picked out a marbled cyan ball almost as bright as his shirt and headed towards lane 7. 

“So this is what you meant by ‘type of crowd’, huh?”

Storm rolled his eyes, “Does it suit me?”

“Mm, maybe? You look like you’re gonna beat a guy with your cigars and that jacket. This doesn’t exactly feel like the place for that.”

“You would know a thing or two about taking a beating, now wouldn’t you Monty?”

“You goddamn know it, Stormy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Storm smiled as he and McQueen continued to pick through the selection.

“Red n’ blue, Storm?”

“Red n’ blue,” Storm nodded, picking up a fiery red ball and handing it to McQueen. Storm picked up a black and blue one. 

“Fitting.”

“Gotta stick with the brand, Lightning. I figured the one with a rushed flame painted jacket would know.” Storm rolled his gray eyes, now reflecting the neons inside the alley. Lightning feigned offense and held his head high as he walked ahead of Storm.

Lightning was the first up at Cal’s persistence. Even after a minute he continued to hesitate when he stood in front of the lane.

“It’s okay, Lightnin’. The lane ain’t gonna bite ya!” Encouraged Cal.

“No but I will,” Lightning said proudly.

Cal literally didn’t know how to respond. He stared at the strawberry blonde in confusion.

“Take your time, sweetie!” Storm mockingly cheered holding back a laugh. 

Lightning took a few steps back. He walked forward, chucking the ball. The ball bounced on the slick lane, eventually hitting three pins. He turned around to see Storm smiling at Lightning with his arms crossed, but was clearly in conversation with Cal who was writing the scores. Another log to the fire of Lightning’s jealousy.

“I have another turn, right?”

“Right!” Storm and Cal said in unison, although Cal was a little too enthusiastic.

Lightning walked over to the ball return, fondling his hair. He huffed and straightened himself out as the ball came back up. He looked over his shoulder to see Storm laughing.

Must be Cal… who else could it be?

He went ahead with his turn, and ended up getting four more pins. More than he got the last time they went bowling, not counting Storm’s pin. As he walked back to the boys, Cal smiled at him. 

“Nice shot, McQueen!”

Reminded of who he was, he puffed out his chest, “Yeah, I’m a natural.”

Storm scoffed, “Haha, sure. Gotta say, I think you did better than last time you actually managed to knock over a pin.” He gave a smile to Lightning.

That small gesture made Lightning regain his confidence, actually doubting for the first time tonight that Storm and Cal were going steady. He thought back to about a week ago or so when he and Storm first met. He shrugged it off, he didn’t mind being a side-project if that was the case. 

Lightning sat back at the table as Storm went up next.

It became silent in the noisy alley.

Lightning watched Storm but was also eyeing Cal. Once again Cal kept track of the score, not taking much note to Lightning. At least that’s what Lightning assumed.

The rest of the game was pretty simple. Storm and Cal were neck and neck on the scoreboard. With McQueen-who wrote his name down as Lightnin’-very far behind.

Storm and Cal kept calling each other names that out of context sounded like they were rivals. The little bumps on the shoulders and exchange of finger guns, made the night almost unbearable for Lightning. The jealousy grew as Storm and Cal reconnected, to the point when Storm would be a flirt with Lightning, he didn’t even notice. He left the man in the dust just like Fireball Beach. Unusual considering how 'perceptive’ the blonde was but, Lightning was hyper-focused on nothings. 

When the ninth frame, Cal sat back down next to McQueen as Storm focused on his turn. He sighed softly, “Hey. I’ve been noticing that you haven’t been very...engaged? Is that the right word? Er,.. I know you kinda on the track as loud and everything and uh..Storm told me that you’re fun to bowl with so, is there anything you want to tell me about?”

Lightning looked at Cal in an almost half glare tight lipped and pouty, “What? No there’s nothing...wrong..” he mumbled off, crossing his arms behind his head and leaning back. He stretched the palms he didn’t know he was clenching behind his head.

“I can tell a jealous guy when I see one.” Cal gently grabbed Lightning’s shoulder. He received a side eye back. “Lightning, I promise you that there’s nothing between Storm and I anymore-“

“Anymore?!” Lightning snapped. “You’re literally all over each other! You two are just gonna leave me in the dust like this? What am I a little ‘side-project?” McQueen huffed and pulled back his hair. Shit. His little ‘no-strings-attached’ one man show stunt was beginning to slide. What happened to the money and fame, McQueen? You could be practicing at Grand Cloud, but no. You’re here instead throwing a fit.

“Lightning, listen-“

Storm kissed his fist as he landed another strike. Proud as ever he turned back to see Cal gently reaching out to a wide-eyed McQueen. Storm’s face dropped quickly coming over to the older racers side and putting a hand on his shoulder. Storm eyed Cal worriedly and rubbed gentle circles on McQueen’s back. McQueen prickled at the touch but calmed as the group headed toward one of the stray tables. 

Storm sat McQueen down between himself and Cal. McQueen’s thoughts were too loud to hear what Cal and Storm chatted about. He assumed that it was about him. I mean what else could it be about? The color of the sky?

Out of all people Cal turns to him, “Hey, I’m gonna get some food. Do you want anything?”

“Wedges,” McQueen mumbled like a grumpy five year old.

Cal nodded and left the table.

Good. Now there’s sometime to be had between myself and Stor-

“I gotta be right back. See you in a minute, pretty boy,” Storm left in the direction of the restroom. Leaving McQueen there with his thoughts.

That one minute became another twenty. That twenty turned into a full half hour.

McQueen’s thoughts became dirtier as the time passed by. 

They did go in a similar direction.

What did Cal mean by ‘food’? Well he did ask me for what I wanted so it can’t be-

No. It’s definitely been enough to time for them to fuck. God, they’ve been gone for a long time, probably on round two.

I’m gonna blow this popsicle stand if they don’t get back soon. Maybe take some rando home.

When the two boys came back, McQueen was scrunched up in himself with arms crossed and glaring eyes. “What took you so long?” He grumbled.

Cal placed the food on the table, “I had to wait for them to make a fresh batch of wedges. Took longer than I thought. Plus I ordered other food for me and Joon.”

McQueen glanced up at Storm, “The line for the Jon was long as fuck. Apparently someone is breaking the rules of no sex in the bathrooms. So, there was only one stall open. Wasn’t my fault.”

Cal felt the idiot move of them leaving at the same time, seep in. “Whatever you’re thinking, isn’t true, Lightning.”

McQueen opened his mouth but immediately closed it. He took another thirty seconds to say something, “What did you call Storm?”

“Joon.”

“June?”

“Joon.”

McQueen choked on his words, “June, June?”

Cal fighting back the tickle in his throat, “Joon.”

Storm sighed, breaking up the idiotic shit that was happening and harshly wrote down his name on the scoresheet, “It’s Joon. Get over it already. I didn’t want to tell you this early, but blondie over here couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.”

The two of them finally took a seat at the small table.  
Storm beside McQueen and Cal to the left of Storm. McQueen poked at the wedges while Storm side eyed him. He felt a lump in his throat as the blonde poked at his food.

“Uh, well you wanna know why he called me Joon?”

McQueen looked up from his uneaten food, ocean blue eyes with a tinge of emptiness the fight in his eyes but a dull light,”Hm?”

“Well, I can tell you it’s not a sappy nickname,” Storm awkwardly chuckled to himself,” It’s my real name. Jackson Storm is really just a stage name.”

“Oh.”

Well that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting,”I’m not a huge fan of people knowing early on, and you know. The uh, people around here don’t take too lightly to a name like mine.”

“Joon…”

“Yup,” Storm popped the ‘p’ and nudged Cal when McQueen turned back to nibble at his food. Cal was just about halfway through with his burger and almost spit out crumbs at Storm’s force.

Call pipped in wiping his lips,”Yeah, I didn’t know his real name until like, what a year or two? Not like I used your stage name much anyway, ‘jerk’ was more fitting.”

McQueen exhaled through his nose and a small smile curving his lips, “It does suit you, to be frank. Er, is it okay if I call you June sometimes? I still like Storm but-“

“It’s cool,” Storm reassured and shyly patted the other on the back,”You’re part of the ‘People allowed to call Storm, Joon club now’, I guess.”McQueen’s eyes lit up a little, honored to be part of the club now. 

“Ah, McQueen,” Cal cleared his throat, “I just wanna clear the air a little. Storm you wanna start?”

Storm took in a breath and began to explain away his and Cal’s past as the trio ate their food. They’d met through a race a few years ago after Cal-for the first time of many- wrecked Storm’s car. By then IGNTR had just found their new cash cow, Jackson Storm. They took him under their wing and introduced Storm to the bigger world of racing. McQueen paid close attention to how Storm gushed about his old racing days with Cal confirming every stupid thing Storm did.   
Storm explained how his mother had almost caught onto him and the stupidly complicated web of lies and love triangles he had to weave to keep his mother out of it. McQueen and Cal almost losing it at Storm mentioning how his mother thought he was caught in a love triangle and how he had to ‘Woo the girl into his open arms’ despite the girl being Cal. Lightning’s shoulders relaxed as he settled back from the laughter.

“We started dating like 6 months after we met, I think?”

“You called me an ‘aloha shirt dressed idiot’ and threw flowers in my face.”

“I was 22, Cal. Shut,” Storm glared. Cal blushed and smiled.

“So..,” McQueen trailed off.

“Why’d we break up? Life got in the way, and some bastards were starting to pester us. Wrong place, wrong time, I guess,” Storm stared at his feet. 

Cal nodded sadly,” It was a mutual thing, we had a lot of stuff to take care of. Much like now I haven’t seen Storm out and about that much until I saw you two at Fireball Beach.”

“Oh yeah!” Lightning perked up, “I gave you some moola to pay off the repairs for your car.”

Storm reached into his pocket and took out the wad of cash. Holding it low so no-one at the alley got any ideas,”Some? This is probably more than some people in town earn in a year.”

“Eh, it’s nothing,” McQueen waved dismissively with a loose wrist,” McQueen family money, ya know?” He shrugged it off.

“Okay, trust fund kid,” Storm remarked resting his chin on his hands, grey eyes staring daggers into the strawberry blondes soul. McQueen pouted and fixed his hair. He could make his own money just… living off of rich parents was a bit easier.

The trio continued to talk about memories from the past, stupid stuff Cal had somehow been persuaded into, how Storm crashed his old car into a pond trying to avoid a dog and how McQueen was definitively the more reckless of the three beyond the shadow of a doubt. 

Once Storm and McQueen had gotten on about racing they’d almost forgotten about Cal being a racer too. It didn’t seem to phase him though. Watching the two get in each other’s face about legendary racers from the past and McQueen’s obnoxiously titled wins in the newspaper.

McQueen had finally relaxed now that he’d gotten an explanation. After choking on his last wedge at Cal talking about Storm in bed-which prompted an immediate ‘shut the fuck uo’ from storm-he’d gotten up to grab himself more of those admittedly good wedges. He’d say they were good, almost as good as Flo’s. Almost.

He didn’t notice Cal trailing after him, until one of his wedges was daintily stolen from his paper bowl. McQueen yelped and was just about ready to punch the heathen that had stolen his wedge. 

“I’ll trade you some fries for a wedge,” Cal said waving the wedge in front of Lightning’s face. Lightning gagged and crinkled his nose like a disgusted dog.

“Ack, no. No thanks, I don’t like fries,” McQueen mumbled snatching the wedge out of Cal’s outstretched hand and shoving it into his mouth.

“Not much of a fries guy, huh?”

“Never was never will be,” McQueen tutted he walked around towards the other ordering stations, checking out the food as Cal trailed behind him.

“So, Storm,” Cal closed his eyes and sucked in a breath,” I er,.. I hope our talk at the table cleared some stuff up? I hope that I'm not saying you gotta like process this super quick or anything… Was that rude? That was probably rude-“

“Cal, you’re fine. I should be okay we can talk more about it later. ,” McQueen's voice was up a pitch as he let out a monotone laugh. He started to fidget with the wedge in hand.

“Alright, I didn’t mean to cause anything.”

“You didn’t Cal, I..Fuck, I shouldn’t be acting like a fucking child.”

Cal chuckled and ordered up another burger before turning back to McQueen,” You do know Storm likes ya quite a bit right?”

McQueen sighed, leaning against a nearby wall,“I mean, I guess so? We’ve only had a one night stand and a couple ‘dates’. I’m not exactly a ‘strings attached’ type of guy.”

Cal hummed as he tapped his fingers against the steel waiting tray. “I figured from hearing all the rumors around town..”

Lightning grinded his teeth,”Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I won’t judge you pal.”

McQueen sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, the blood pounding loudly against his skull and the dim lights that aren’t helping his ache, “Sorry, just thinking about this gives me a headache..”

Cal turned away to pick up his plate of tenders,”Should I get water for your headache or-“

“I’ll be fine.”

Cal hummed and leaned against the wall alongside Lightning,” Speaking of headache, I’m like 99% sure you’ve heard of all the robberies going on lately.”

“Yeah that,” Lightning rolled his eyes, almost inducing a headache further with how aggressive it was,” the war didn’t help much with the case. It’s just ‘suspect is korean!’ than nothin’. Whaddya they expect us to do arrest every vaguely south-east asian looking person?”

“Took the words right outta my mouth,” Cal visibly deflated as he took a harsh bite out of his tenders,” We can’t exactly trust the police around here either.”

McQueen’s mind immediately wandered to the night at Flo’s. He shook his head quickly, blinking a few times before turning to Cal who had his eyebrow raised.

“It’s nothing,” Lightning waved dismissively before taking another bite out of his wedges.

“I’m guessing the cops aren't a good ice breaker… but,” Cal waved his hand, holding a tender over the crowd,”This place? Bit of a safe haven for people like us. I dunno how Storm found this place. Surprised they even let him in with all the crap he pulled back then.”

“Pfft.”

“I’m serious! I mean just look at him, leather jacket, dark clothes, a mean scowl, the cigar. He looks like he’s straight outta a movie, y’know the grizzled bad boy types? Scared of feelings?”

McQueen held in a whistle,”He sure does look like one,” Be feels his face start to warm thinking quietly about all those ‘grizzled bad boy types’ he’s been eyeing up on those magazines since he was a teen.  
He scrubbed his hands over his ever-heating face, being not so far from the paleness of Cal it would probably be 100x more obvious in good light. He couldn’t tell if the pool of heat swirling in his stomach was from lust or a crush.

As if Cal could feel the radiating heat off of him he hands him a glass of water,” You look thirsty.”  
McQueen’s mouth went immediately dry as Cal struggled to hold back his smile. His flat lipped and strained ‘I’m being sincere face’ coming loose at the seams. Lightning snatched the glass with a scowl but takes a few hearty gulps nonetheless. Cal pulls back with a sly smile, “M’not sure about Storm’s stance on thirsty guys but you seem to be an exception for him. You didn’t hear it from me though.”

Lightning choked on his water, biting at the glass hard enough to leave a bit of a dent,”Cal!”

“Hm? I didn’t say anything.”

“Mhm sure. Go suck a donkeys ass.”

“No, you go suck a donkeys ass….”

“Nice comeback, Cal!” Someone yelled back as they passed the two, an old friend of Cal, good ol’ Bobbie. 

Cal stuttered and spat half words as Bobbie walked off. About to throw out one of his very well thought out comebacks when Robbie disappeared into one of the bathrooms.

“A friend?”

“Yup, ol’ Bobbie. He comes ere’ often.”

McQueen smirked ready to fire off a dirty joke at the expense of Cal’s dignity when Cal jolted straight up off the wall at the sound of a loud “bang!”

“Lay low! I think the cops are here!”

The alley quieted down before rushing to hide and cover up any trace of the place's nature. McQueen held on tight to his food as a few people left out the backdoor in the scuffle likely not wanting to deal with any sort of interrogation. It was common enough for Ramone and his regulars to deal with.

McQueen and Cal gave eachother a look, “I think we should just fetch Storm and go..,” Cal trailed off eyes scouring the now hushed bowling alley, his voice now a whisper. Cal inched toward the nearby trash can and cautiously threw his food in. McQueen on the other hand decided he’d keep his precious wedges. Lightning nodded and took a slow bite out of his wedge, following Cal close behind as they pushed past the people trying to ‘act normal’.

“Fuck, dude where is Storm?”

There was nothing much on the table besides an empty tray and half empty box of cigars.

“Maybe he went out for a smoke?”

Lightning’s skin prickled, looking around the sea of hushed voices and people.Cal set his palm on McQueen back,” Don’t worry. The guy can take care of himself, he’s been around the block. If we can’t find him here he’s either outside of he went home- Besides, he did say his mom needed him home on time. Your shoes, please?”

McQueen had completely forgotten about the shoes and slipped them off with only mild inconvenience. He handed them off to Ramone with a small ‘thank you’ and a bit of a hefty tip.Cal used the hand on his back to guide McQueen towards the exit, the two slipped out into the cool and humid summer night. Cal right behind him. It smelt like smoke and rain. There were a few people soliciting on the stairways down to the alley, a couple taking a smoke break. McQueen felt himself begin to sweat a little but he wasn’t sure if that was from worry or the weather or the 4 wedges he still had in his bowl. To McQueen’s surprise he could spot the men in uniform not far from the premises of the alley-if the blinding light from the headlamps wasn’t obvious enough-they were crowded around something but the lights were too bright to really make it out. Once Cal spotted them he quickly ushered McQueen away.

“Hey! What’re you two doing?”

Cal jumped, “We’re just going home sir-“

“Well alright, but c’mere boy,” the cop adjusted the holster of his gun and strutted towards the two. Despite the cop being shorter than both McQueen and Cal he somehow managed to get up in their faces. “If you two see any of them gooks around you’re more than free to come on by the station. You gotta do your part as citizens.”

“Sir-“

“Atta boy! We’ve been getting some er, reports over the past weeks or so about em’ running rampant around here. Guess they got mad about the whole y’know-“

Lightning laughed nervously, “Yeah, We’ll uh, keep and eye out I suppose.”

“Andy, what the heck are ya doing. Can’t stay on the job that long can ya?”

‘Andy’ bit back a response, “Now shoo!” Before Lightning could turn away the cop snagged one of his wedges. Baffled as the cop gestured aggressively for them to leave, patting his gun and chewing on the probably soggy wedge. The cop hummed and squinted at them before giving them the “I’m watching you” gesture and turning away.

Lightning hadn’t noticed he was holding in his breath. He let out a loud sigh as he and Cal speed walked down the empty streets on the outskirts of town. So much for trying to find Storm. 

Cal walked ahead of him to the empty stoplight, an almost sick yellow beamed down on them. The road was empty, everyone was too busy in the more popular parts of town to care about this place. McQueen’s speed had slowed to a sloppy walk.

“You okay?”Cal turned back at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think so? Not sure, Cal. My wedge got stolen and-”

Cal looked down at his feet and bit his lip, “Storm?”

“Yeup.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Lightning. Maybe he got alerted to the cops or something,” Cal suggested completely ignoring the wedges. 

“Maybe.”

Cal swatted away some mosquitoes,” If anything happened to him we’ll help.”

“He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to just ask for help.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve known him long enough to see the signs.”

McQueen felt the bits of jealousy creep up on him like a spider inching its way up his spine. Cal pursed his lips. Lightning noticed from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat,” Good thing, eh?”

“Mm, yeup. It sure does help…”

Lightning laughed nervously biting into another wedge. The silence between then stretched for what felt like hours only to be barely a minute or so. McQueen’s heart raced, Shit, Shit, Shit-

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I really do think Storm’s taken a liking to you,” More than he would let on, Cal thought. “He’s not going to…abandon you for his ex.”

“We aren’t even dating in the first place..”

“Still, it doesn't change anything. You seem to like the guy, if your little jealous stint wasn’t already a sign.”

“I already told you, it was a one night stand, what don’t you understand?” Lightning scowled, almost smushing the wedge in hand. The yellow of the wedge looked almost an almost sick green under the lamp. Cal shrugged and hit the crosswalk button. There were still very few cars, if it was McQueens call he would’ve just sprinted for the other side but Cal was a ‘law-abiding citizen.’

“About Storm? A lot. About you? Also a lot, but I think even a blind man could tell you’ve got the hots for him. He even told me about your ‘dates’.”

“He told you?”

Cal paused and ran his hand down his face, “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that.”

McQueen upright and tense, wasn’t expecting that. He gulped at the dryness of his throat from the wedges,” What, what else do you know?”

The other's eyes went wide before making a zipping motion to his lips. Lightning groaned, “Come on, Cal.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Cal-“

“The timer is almost up, Lightning.”

“And here I thought I liked you,” Lightning growled at him. Stepping closer to almost be foot to foot with Cal.

Cal smiled warm and playful, much to the dismay of McQueen. “If you really wanna know..,” Cal tugged at the hem of his shirt, “Storm likes aloha shirts.” He winked at the distraught racer and elbowed him as the light above him signaled for him to walk,”Hope that helped!” Cal shot him some finger guns before prancing away. 

Lightning gawked at him as Cal walked away with a peppy wave and a skip in his step, almost dancing his way in front of the singular car on the road. Oh how he wished it would’ve hit him. He stood mouth agape and blinked away the confusion, not even bothering to go after Cal. He stood under the buzzing light, head slowly cranking. Aloha shirts, huh? He could work with that. Maybe. The light flickering above him seemed to agree.

He cocked an eyebrow up and eyed the now crumpled and greasy paper container. He shrugged, well less mess for Emie. He chucked the worn container into the grass beside the sidewalk and headed towards the nearest payphone to get one of his lackeys to pick him up. 

He didn’t notice the old worn down bat his litter landed next to.


End file.
